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GEMS OF THOUGHT 


GATHERED 

ALONG LIFE’S PATHWAY 


/ 


II 










GEMS OF THOUGHT 


GATHERED ALONG LIFE’S 
PATHWAY 

BY ALONZO THOMPSON 



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CHICAGO 

PRIVATELY PRINTED 
1910 


fS 3$ 3 I 

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Copyright, 1910 

BY 

ALONZO THOMPSON 




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TO THE 

MEMORY OF THE AUTHOR 

OF THIS VOLUME 


Sometime at eve, when the tide is low, 

I shall slip my moorings and sail away, 

With no response to the friendly hail 
Of kindred craft in the busy bay. 

In the silent hush of the twilight pale, 

When the night stoops down to embrace the day, 
And the voices call in the water’s flow,— 

Sometime at eve, when the tide is low, 

I shall slip my moorings and sail away. 

Through purple shadows that darkly trail 
O’er the ebbing tide of the unknown sea, 

I shall fare me away with a dip of sail 
And a ripple of waters to tell the tale 
Of a lonely voyager sailing away 
To mystic isle where at anchor lay 
The craft of those who have sailed before 
O’er the unknown sea to the unseen shore. 




A; 


5 



ENVOY 


A few who have watched me sail away 
Will miss my craft from the busy bay. 

Some friendly barks that were anchored near, 
Some loving souls that my heart held dear, 

In silent sorrow will drop a tear; 

But I shall have peacefully furled my sail 
In moorings sheltered from storm and gale 
And greeted the friends who have sailed before 
O’er the unknown sea to the unseen shore. 


PREFACE 


Gems of Thought were Gathered AlojJg 
Life’s Pathway through inspiration — an inspira¬ 
tion born of my love for, and devotion to, both 
relative and friend—they who have passed on, and 
those who are as yet upon the earth plane. 

It is with the feeling that we are inseparable— 
that the friendship and love of a lifetime is eternal 
and indestructible—that the author in this humble 
way testifies to the strongest tie in dedicating the 
little volume to those close to his heart in this 
life — and the next. 


ALONZO THOMPSON 



CONTENTS 


TRIBUTES TO ARISEN FRIENDS 

The Fox Girls at Hydesyille ..... 15 

Thaddeus K. Beal ....... 18 

Xilia Barrett ........ 19 

The Vacant Chair ....... 21 

Samuel F. Deneen ....... 24 

Father Wood ........ 25 

Mrs. Julia Pomeroy’s Child ..... 27 

O. V. Jones ........ 28 

Mrs. Fox’s Daughter ...... 30 

Anna Kemper McCluskey . . . . .’31 

Jenny Truett ........ 34 

Maria G. Prather.36 

John Clelland ....... 38 

Mrs. Timmons ........ 40 

Tody Robinson ........ 42 

Bouen G. Ford ........ 44 

Captain B. F. Torrance.45 

James Todd ........ 46 

Mrs. Lumry ........ 47 

Mrs. Judkins ........ 49 

John Paton ........ 51 

Theophilus C. Thompson.53 

G. L. Moore ........ 55 

Albert J. Young.56 

A. J. Young.58 

Olive A. Blodgett ....... 61 

M. H. Ogden.62 

A Friend.63 


9 










10 


Contents 


Mother’s Epitaph ....... 65 

Miss Blackwell, at College, 1853 .... 65 

Mrs. Allen ........ 66 

Anna .......... 67 

Lincoln ......... 69 

Abraham Lincoln ....... 70 

SYMPOSIUM OF GLEAMS AND ILLUMINA¬ 

TIONS ALONG LIFE’S PATHWAY 

Life. 73 

Thoughts to Elmer ....... 75 

Solace for a Friend in Grief .... 76 

My Mother ........ 77 

Soul’s Distress ........ 78 

Golden Shore ........ 79 

Spirit Land ........ 81 

Higher Life ........ 82 

The Home of the Soul ...... 83 

Mary’s Good-bye ....... 85 

Child’s Prayer ........ 86 

The Orphan’s Soliloquy ...... 87 

The Old and the New ...... 89 

Christmas ......... 91 

Souvenir for Seven Lasses at Constance . . 92 

Birthday Remembrances ...... 94 

Aspasia ......... 95 

A Gleam ......... 95 

Stray Thoughts ....... 96 

Stray Thoughts ....... 97 

Spirit Friends ........ 98 

Love’s World.99 

My Picture ....... 101 

To Daughter, for Baby . . . 101 
















Contents 


11 


Life’s Pictures . . . . . . .102 

Cornelia ......... 104 

Miss M. F. A. . . . . . . . . 104 

For Jennie ........ 105 

For a Friend ........ 106 

Written for Short ....... 107 

Golden Jubilee of Spiritualism .... 108 

Lost Thoughts . . . ... . . . 109 

Scintillations at 78th Year . . . . .110 
The Mystic Rap ....... 112 

Chaos.113 

Giesbach Falls.114 

Pike’s Peak ........ 115 

Love’s Thoughts . . . . . . .117 

Lines to Father at Age 94 . . . . .118 

Eternity’s Timepiece . . . . . .120 

“I Go the Way of All the Earth” . . . 121 

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND THOUGHT 

ECHOES 

Flag’s Legacy; or, Burr Oak Grove Address, 

July 4, 1879 125 

Mother’s Right. ....... 133 

Closing Year ........ 134 

Wavelets of Thought . . . . . .135 

Walser’s Rhymes ....... 137 

Which God? ........ 140 

Pantheism ......... 141 

Review Nathan Gregg’s Ball ..... 143 

Cyrus Thompson’s Review of the Above Poem . 144 

Dog Beauty ........ 146 

The Voice of Nature.147 

Mountains on Lake Constance.153 













Contents 


12 


Dogs as Beasts of Burden in Germany . . .154 

Oconomowoc ........ 155 

Lines on Bunker Hill for Elmer .... 157 

Truth ......... 159 

The Fall of St. Charles Bridge .... 160 

Mount Rigi (Switzerland) ..... 162 

Christmas Reveries . . . . . . .164 

Thoughts to Daughter at Rome .... 165 

Falls of Giesbach . . . . . . .167 

Leap Year Banquet ....... 168 

Stray Thoughts, at Lucerne . . . . .171 

Soliloquy at Leap Year Party. .... 172 

Lion at Lucerne ....... 173 

Laboring Man ........ 174 

The Babe ......... 175 

Thoughts ......... 176 

Praises to God ........ 177 

Merry Heart ........ 179 

Charity ......... 180 

To a Worthy Mule ....... 181 

Sympathy ......... 183 

W. J. Bryan ........ 184 

Hope .......... 186 

Intemperance . . . . . . . .188 

The Clock of Eternity ...... 197 

Space and Time ....... 199 










TRIBUTES TO ARISEN FRIENDS 


% 


The Fox Girls at Hydesville 

Our natal day hath come again. 

With joy we’ll give a loud acclaim, 

And speak in praise, of other days. 

That brought its joys, in many ways. 

Two little girls, from Heaven we think— 
Threw wide the gates, and opened the link 
That bound us over there, 

And showed us up, the golden stair. 

Where science would not condescend, 

Their little thoughts, wrought not an end, 

And tethered here, from earth they raise, 
Away, to saints of other days. 

An alphabet they improvise 
That reaches to the heavenly skies 
And up; along its steps, they climb 
To meet the hosts of other times. 

These ones, in joy around, did come 
And tell us, of a heavenly home. 

Their work well done by them we praise 
And wish godspeed, in many ways. 

Before how dark, the tomb appears, 

With only stones, to show the years; 

15 


16 


Gems of Thought 


And Heaven remote, in distant spheres, 

They broke the chains that held our fears. 

The peering faces of the angel world 
Looked down upon, their flags unfurled; 
And lighted up, the pathway to the skies 
Where once, but gilded tombs arise. 

Glad shouts appear, and wondering men 
Came far and near, from wood and glen; 

To see the little children, as of yore 
Confound the mighty, as did Christ before. 

The darkness of the past they lift. 

And through the clouds we see a rift. 

Not broad, ’tis true, but bright and clear. 

And through it comes a light to cheer. 

We read the names they spell aloud. 

Of those, we laid in sorrow’s shroud. 

We live beyond, ’tis true you see, 

In raps, we spell, of one, two, three. 

No more can tomb, us barricade, 

From friends in earth, low down, we’ve laid; 
For Katie Fox, she broke the seals, 

O’er grave was set, new life reveals. 

And with, her sister, broad made, the way 
That leads from earth, to endless day. 




Along Life's Pathway 


17 


Then praise again these children true 
For what they’ve done for me and you; 

Ne’er let the truth disclosed by them 
Sink down below,, in shade, grow dim. 

For this would be a mortal sin. 

What Christ foretold in other climes, 

These dears, made known in modern times, 

And found a new arisen Saviour, 

And left no room for doubt and waver. 

Of after life, they told the story 
Long held by faith, and old and hoary; 

And hewed the way, so deep and plain. 

That angels come and go, at will again. 

For this we’ll praise, these children true 
For what they’ve done for Heaven and you; 
Remember well, the dangerous ground they trod. 
That leads from earth, the way to God. 

For priest and skeptic both unite. 

To hide the truth away from sight, 

And call us dupes and silly fools, 

For getting wisdom, outside, their rules. 

No more the fagot blazes round, 

America’s free proclaim the sound. 

No witch, no more, we’ll stripe and burn, 

But joy instead, brim full the urn. 


w 




18 


Gems of Thought 


And ever may we emulate. 

The truth brought through the golden gate, 
By Maggie Fox and sister Kate. 

We hope them joy across the strait. 


Thaddeus K. Beal 

Throw wide thy leaden doors, Oh tomb. 
Another traveler meets his doom, 

Beyond the wall, where spirits call, 

And death’s dark clouds do not appal. 

The gate was stormed in frenzied hour, 

To take on board a spirit flower, 

Tired of the mortal coil he bore, 

The silver cords, in strands he tore. 

And sailed in haste upon that sea, 

Whose shores skirt on humanity. 

Whose tides roll high their angry waves, 
Around the saddened mortals’ graves. 

And in their current bear away, 

The souls of men to brighter day, 

We strive the cause, to find in vain. 

Why Thaddeus snapped life’s cord in twain. 

But He who sends the sun and rain, 

He knows full well each heart the pain, 




Along Life's Pathway 


19 


And holds aloft the key of grace. 

For anxious heart that flies in haste, 

To seek at once a resting place. 

Thy life, my friend, I saw it grow. 

From year to year, to manhood’s flow, 
And bear the ripened fruit, good deeds. 
That fell around thy path, that leads. 

To brighter land, beyond the skies, 
Where honest souls gain Paradise, 

’Tis not for me, thy judge to be. 

To try thy act, that snapped life’s tree. 

The currents of thy soul to weigh. 

Are his alone, who rules the day. 

The whirring blood, that ran thy veins, 
Alone, was known, by Him who reigns. 


Xilia Barrett 

Around thy hearthstone, shadows fall, 

Thy child now, meets spirit call, 

Her pleasant form, grace’s heavenly hall, 
Where Death’s keen strokes no more appal. 

The form of earth she’s laid aside, 

And clothed anew as Heavenly bride, 

She rests around beyond time’s tide, 

Glad in new birth, to us denied. 




20 


Gems of Thought 


Her merry laugh rings not around, 

’Tis hushed, but still above is found, 

Its music floats ’mid holier ground, 

It speaks to thee, across the sound. 

I live again. Oh mother dear, 

Shed not for me the briny tear, 

But through its glisten on thy cheek, 

Behold above, thy jewels speak. 

I call to you, in low, soft voice. 

Weep not for me, the Saviour’s choice, 

Who grandly said beyond Time’s sea, 

Let little children come to me. 

That higher call I’ve, gone to fill, 

Cheer up my friends, to bear it still, 

For richer fruitage grows above, 

Since watered by your stream of love. 

’Neath arbors green, not made with hands, 

I play above, with happy band, 

And smile unseen, from higher home, 

And wait in joy, the time you come. 

No soul mounts higher, without a band. 

To welcome to that happy land, 

So far and yet so near at hand. 

The shores we touch from whence we stand. 

Fail not, your life’s work still my friends, 
For little angel now attends, 




Along Life's Pathway 


21 


And watches well your steps with anxious care, 
And counts as pearls your gleaming hair. 


That tells the stealing years gone by, 
Which bear you onward to the sky, 

To meet your cherub, in that home, 
Where other workmen build the dome, 
To sense and thought unseen below. 
But felt within, ’mid spirits flow. 


The Vacant Chair 

Matron D. Lewis 

My friends, I would not ope the wound. 
Deep down in heart, there’s holy ground, 

I name with care, the vacant chairs 
Death’s blade hath made in recent years. 


The little ones later risen higher, 
Have left you lonely by the fire, 

The heavenly home, for earthen one 
Exchanged, life’s work so early done. 


How strange, it seems, our children dear, 
So soon have sailed and left us drear. 
The port they’ve gained in Heaven’s land, 
Is quite near by, we understand. 




22 


Gems of Thought 


Life’s troubled sea, they missed its waves, 

It washes now around their graves. 

Their merry laugh of youthful life 
Hath passed beyond this scene of strife. 

The portal gained, beyond the main 
Hath higher joy for them again, 

The sin of life, that comes with years 
Was missed by them, chide back your tears. 

This sorest grief, contains some good, 

God’s ways are grand, when understood, 

Who leaves no mortal long forlorn, 

When child is dead, an angel’s born. 

Their merry faces, once your pride, 

Beam now above, on Heaven’s side, 

Their bright, blue eyes have lost no splendor, 
They glisten brighter still up yonder. 

Their merry laugh quits not with Death, 

It rings beyond in every breath, 

Far brighter home, they’ve found to roam, 
Than earthen one, from whence they’ve flown. 

You sadly miss their little feet. 

That moved about at morn to greet, 

And clothes are laid away in drawers, 

That covered late, those mortal flowers. 




Along Life's Pathway 


23 


These little ones new raiment found, 

Their bodies laid within the mound, 

And shine above in dresses bright, 

Placed there it seems through angel’s might. 

The vacancy they’ve left my friends, 

God uses it for other ends. 

And though it is so hard to bear, 

Remember God, is ever near. 

To bless the anxious heart in pain. 

And speaks to us, our loss their gain, 

The golden crown, they early found, 

Will brighter grow, beyond the mound. 

Life’s pearly dew, that fills your eyes. 

For children who in their graves do lie. 

Doth build a rainbow in your sky. 

That shines afar in golden tint, 

Although your heart, with grief is rent, 

A messenger from Heaven is sent 
To light your pathway to the sky, 

Where little children never die. 

This secret sorrow sheds an incense on the soul, 
Where waves of life, in trouble o’er it roll. 




24 


Gems of Thought 


Samuel F. Deneen 

The casket is shorn of the jewel it bore. 

Death claimed him his own, he moved from our 
shore, 

And poised on the wings of the spirit, he sails 
For the land of our hopes, where ’tis free from 
life’s gales. 

We joyed in his life, a flower of rare birth, 

We held in him promise of much of great worth, 

And saw it unfold, as time’s coil was unrolled, 

Till manhood was reached, our joy was untold. 

Now the scythe of the spoiler, has swept him in bloom, 
And gathered the choicest, to lie in the tomb, 

But the flesh it is mortal, and ever must fall, 

The spirit is God-like and hearkens the call, 

Of kindred who’ve gone to the land of the blest, 
Where new loves, and new hopes may shine o’er 
the crest. 

The clods of the valley—be light o’er his clay, 

His spirit still beams, where far grander’s the day, 
And the line, that hath held his life here below, 

Is fastened above, in sure hands as we know. 




Along Life's Pathway 


25 


Father Wood 

We gather to-day around the clay 
Of Father Wood’s, the spirit’s away. 

Has winged its flight to brighter light, 
To bask in a more celestial ray. 

His form while here we knew it well, 
And on his life we love to dwell. 

As some pure brook that ever runs. 

It still doth shine, though form is gone. 

An even life on earth he led. 

And daily asked for higher aid. 

To help him on his way of toil, 

While feet were pressing earthly soil. 


His tongue was free from earth-born guile, 
He hated falsehood all the while. 

As born of sin that leaves its shade 
On man’s true form where seams are made. 

The friends he’s left will sadly miss 
The play of joy around his face, 

And wonder why he’s gone so far, 

Since he has passed the door ajar. 




26 


Gems of Thought 


The curtain falls upon the scene, 

And he is hid from view we ween. 

But just beyond the vale appears. 

Renewed in strength and younger years. 

For him may be to look adown. 

On wedded one mid daily round. 

And visit too about the home. 

Where loved ones are, may he not come? 

Gliding with noiseless tread around. 

Where friends once joined him in the throng, 
For love is love in every state. 

Nor is it changed where angels wait. 

Look up, dear friends, still trust in him, 
Who crowns with joy and fills to brim 
Each mortal one who holds the jewel, 

Reset at death, a grand renewal 

That brings to age its youthful joy, 

That brings to parent the long lost boy, 
That brings to bride the wedded groom, 
That brings to man his highest home. 

Oh death so feared, you bring release. 
From lowly cares and sorrows cease. 

You’ve taken from us our kind old friend, 
But let us live to find the end. 

There angels glitter on their trend. 




Along Life's Pathway 


27 


Mrs. Julia Pomeroy’s Child 

Death clipped the thread of life in twain— 
And floated her to sea again. 

The one you loved so well while here 
Is born again in other sphere. 

The tiny lips you kissed in love. 

They quiver now in land above— 

She meets a line of kin on high— 

That welcomes babe in brighter sky. 

You’ll miss her here, friend Julia, dear, 

But little angel now is ever near, 

Well guarded by the host of heaven. 

She lives in bliss, new love is given. 

For mother here in lower sphere, 

Then clear from eyes, the pearly tear, 

Her tarry short in Earth’s low land, 

She’s gone above with brighter band— 
Where angels high around may stand. 

Her sister dear awaits her there, 

And breathes for her each night a prayer, 

And holds high carnival of bliss. 

With baby dear, that much you’ll miss. 




28 


Gems of Thought 


O. V. Jones 

The silent thread of life is lost to view. 

It shines beyond, its brightness doth renew. 

On higher plains, he roams, our old-time friend. 
Let us await, in trust, the final end. 

Our loved one doth raise his voice above. 

Nor hath he lost, by change, his holy love 
For them he left behind, enclosed in clay, 

While he, in spirit soared to brighter day. 

We sadly miss the gladsome smile of one, 

Who lived to love his fellow man below. 

No hate he knew, in life he lived below, 

For this he blooms, more brightly now we know. 

The change of state, he met in joy and peace, 
For life was love of Him, who brought release; 
He looked aloft, on plains celestial. 

When night closed in upon terrestrial. 

The wife may sadly feel her loss below. 

And children grieve, for parents kind we know, 
But, then, in higher courts to have a friend. 

Is well for us, who earthly cares attend. 

The grandeur of his life will flow along, 

’Twill be in truth as a perpetual song, 

Rehearsed by those who knew him here below, 
And felt his kindness, in its love beats flow. 




Along Life's Pathway 


29 


In manhood’s dawn his course was joined with mine. 
One lustrum full, we travelled o’er a line, 

That looked to knowledge’s fountain clear and sweet, 
As pearls of greatest joy we e’er should meet. 

How many hours we roamed along its field. 

Is kept on higher page, the clasp unsealed, 

This memory lives within my breast alone. 

His deeds and jeweled words had genuine tone, 

For wit and levity, he had small place, 

But love and kindness ever filled their place. 

No child e’er loved its mother’s sweetmeat so. 

As he loved knowledge, true and good we know, 

No word of guile from lips of his e’er fell. 

Truth sparkled on his eye, love-lit to dwell. 

His life shone out, as a calm and placid river, 

That will as grandly flow along forever. 

And leave its impress, on the shores of time. 

Now he hath passed in peace, to higher clime, 

To meet in joy at the foot of death’s stream. 

The loved ones of earth, the Saviour redeems. 




30 


Gems of Thought 


Mrs. Foxs Daughter 

The silver lines that gleam in hair. 

She welcomes them, with silent prayer. 
And counts beside the years with care. 
That swift revolve to bring you there. 

That pearly gate, on golden hinge. 

She peers it through, to see life’s tinge 
Grow less from day to day on cheek 
Where whiteness tells, the angels speak 

And do prepare you for a way 
That leads to bright, unending day. 
Where darling ones will meet you kind. 
When life’s dull garb is left behind. 




Along Life's Pathway 


31 


Anna Kemper McCluskey 

The light of life hath ceased to shine 
Within her casket on the shores of time. 
And mounted higher, her soul aglow 
With love of Him who died below. 

The veil of sense that held her form 
Is rudely crushed, but spirits charm. 
Doth linger still, and brighter grow, 
Since rent in twain by fatal blow. 

Her path of life doth shine anew 
As memory’s lines doth glisten through. 
Her beams of joy that softened pain 
Are ours to know and feel again. 

The radiance of her pleasant face 
Hath passed to higher life to grace 
More Heavenly scenes beyond the skies 
Where Anna lives, in Paradise. 

Death’s stealthy tread in wicked haste 
Hath laid her form in resting place. 

Her soul, she had a royal one. 

Has upward flown, her life’s work done. 
A host of friends she leaves below. 




32 


Gems of Thought 


How harsh to them the fatal blow. 

A daughter dear must miss her here, 

A husband too, his life how drear, 

Her place at home unfilled will be. 

She lives beyond life’s ruffled sea. 

Her outward form beneath the mound 
Her soul looks down, from holier ground— 
On Him suffused, in pain and sorrow 
So deep, he sees no shining morrow. 

Cheer up your lonely heart, my friend— 
’Tis thus that life in death must end. 

This fiat came when souls were born 
Adown Time’s stream in primal morn. 

And earth’s dull matter that we feel 
Is but as dust on chariot wheel; 

It flies away at death’s cold breath. 

And leaves the soul that lies beneath. 

To shine in brightness, on new fields 
Where life a better fruitage yields, 
Released from earthen mantle laid away 
For shining garments rid of clay. 

Regrets depart: chide back the tear— 
Another angel guards you here; 

Think not her radiance dim in Death, 

For life dies not, with ebbing breath. 




Along Life's Pathway 


33 


The love she held in store for thee 
It grows apace beyond the sea. 

Whose shores skirt on humanity. 

Look then beyond for brighter home. 
Mid daily life, where e’er you roam, 
Nor think her gone so far away. 
Though she has left her mortal clay. 

For love doth cling to her anew 
Since death has intervened, ’tis true, 
And whom you think so far away 
May come to see you any day. 

Death worries not the soul, my friend 
For God is good, unto the end; 

And strengthens us to bear the pain 
That else would overturn the brain. 




34 


Gems of Thought 


Jenny Truett 

You’ve laid at rest the darling pet, 

And eyes with weeping still are wet,— 
For all who knew, hath loved her well, 
And many more than tongue can tell. 

Amid the household, Jennie’s gleam 
Came pure and fresh as bright sunbeam; 
Her absence leaves a dark, broad spot 
That ne’er in time will be forgot. 

Bright jewel, gone to deck the skies, 

And join her friends in Paradise— 

A mother met her there, her prize! 

How great her joy, you all may realize. 

Her life had known much pain below; 
Freed from its clay will gladly go, 

And rise to heights supernal. 

In lands where joy may be eternal. 

The golden peaks of summer land 
Will seem more bright, for now she stands 
High up above this mortal vale, 

And rest on high beyond Earth’s dale. 

Live on, in hope and upward gaze. 

Nor think her lost beyond Life’s ways. 
The silent boatman hath crossed her over, 
And left no tidings to discover. 





Along Life's Pathway 


35 


Her love still lives, and thrills your breast, 
And this is proof of all the rest. 

Think then of her as one not far,— 

She’s only gone, through door ajar, 

And looks from clearer form on you, 

Now left to mourn for her, ’tis true; 

She often comes in new disguise, 

Her presence you may realize. 

Dear Nelly, dry your tears for her, 

And love her still as very near. 

She lives in higher state anew; 

She’s left the clay and bid adieu, 

And gone to join her mother too. 

’Tis just, ’tis fair—two here, two there,— 
Blame not grim Death, not yet despair, 

For mother lived, and wished for Jennie 
To come to her, where clime’s more sunny. 




36 


Gems of Thought 


Maria G. Prather 

Tread lightly around the funeral bier. 

An aged one has fallen here. 

Well filled her days with honest ways. 

She basks amid serener rays. 

A life of labor and of love. 

Is done—she’s gone to realms above— 

To join the caravan of souls— 

Beyond, where death no more controls. 

Her three-score years and upward here 
Were full of love and kindliest cheer, 
And threw around her home a joy 
That time nor space can ne’er destroy. 

Beyond this vale of sense she’s risen. 

New forms may now surround her vision, 
Long loved and gone, she doth meet. 

Who glide around with noiseless feet. 
Their mother dear, anew to greet. 

The waves of death, that washed her o’er, 
Was joy to those on other shore. 

That waited long on higher plain 
For mother here to join again, 

Since shorn of earth, is gone to Heaven. 






Along Life's Pathway 


37 


Her life book filled with deeds of worth, 
’Twas closed in early morn on earth, 

In quietness, her soul went out; 

But angel friends were all about 


To guide that one to happier land. 
Where friends, in waiting all may stand, 
And waft to her, the waiting hand, 

A pilgrim fresh, across time’s strand. 


She bears to them a record clear, 

As brightest sun without a blear 
Life’s duties long, well done have been, 
A friend to all, amid life’s din, 

No foe below, she left, we know, 

And all above, may love her so. 


With children here we mourn her loss. 
Her faith was clear, she saw the cross. 
And hung her hopes high on the same, 
Content to trust in Jesus’ name. 


From earthly sorrows, now she’s free, 
Times tide hath borne her out to sea— 
Its gleaming sails, may beckon us o’er 
To that distant, yet ever near shore— 
Where life and love has gone before. 





38 


Gems of Thought 


A sad adieu, we bid to you: 

Our mother dear, oh, is it true 
You’re lost to us while not in view? 

But golden memories, fresh may rise, 

And cast their tints on paradise. 

Where rest the one we now most prize. 

John Clelland 

The dark meteor of Death hath passed, 

And claimed our loved, and holds him fast— 
Beneath the mound, is holy gound, 

His soul has flown,—above is found. 

His cheery life while living here, 

’Tis changed, ’tis found on higher sphere, 
And we are led to mourn his loss 

s 

And bear in life anew this cross. 

A smiling boy I knew him here, 

Some thirty years, or very near, 

And never saw without a smile 

His fine formed face, so free from guile. 

Among us here to manhood grew, 

And made fast friends; no foes he knew, 
Beloved alike by old and young, 

His life a song, was merry sung, 

And made each passer happy as it rung 
Along Time’s aisles and corridors among. 




Along Life's Pathway 


39 


His old Scotch father now may joy 
Anew to claim his earthly boy,— 

And we are left so lonely now, 

For mother at his tomb doth bow.— 

And lisp a prayer on high to Him, 

Who never fails, however dim, 

To draw quite nigh to us of earth. 

When loved one hath found new birth. 

His sad, grieved wife is left to mourn 
For him now gone, to other born; 

She hath another one to bind her soul 
To border lands beyond that roll. 

Dry up the tears, dear mother, here,— 
The debt he paid we should not fear,— 
And clasp thy hands in joy to know 
He lives above that’s left below. 

For God is kind, life hath no end. 

But passes on with upward trend. 

And, wife, grieve not as sudden loss, 

For stars may shine, and light this cross. 
That upward realm new joy hath found, 
Now Johnnie’s gone to higher grounds. 




40 


Gems of Thought 


Mrs. Timmons 

Weep not for her, now passed away; 

Far brighter robe she wears, than clay, 
The temple that her soul hath raised 
In memory lives; give God the praise. 

The brightness of her life below 
Leaves dullness here, but casts its glow 
On higher life, where now she stands 
With kindred friends, who now join hands. 

And give the kiss of joy and love 
To her, fresh born to realms above. 

Her life work’s done; how well, all know 
Who chanced to walk her way below. 

Her consort’s left in loneliness, 

And daughter, too, she lived to bless; 

The sons her counsels wise will miss, 

With ne’er again her good-night kiss. 

’Mid brighter bowers her spirit blooms, 
And waits the time her kindred comes. 

No more with pain her spirit groans. 

No more is heard her earthly moans. 

But joyful now, in birth new found, 

She waits for you on holier ground. 
Beyond the vale that’s hid by mound 
Away from all unearthly sound. 




Along Life's Pathway 


41 


No more the storms of life will hover 
Around her form. How dear we love her! 
No more her mild, bright eye will glisten. 
No more to mother’s voice we’ll listen. 

The prayer for us she lisped each day 
Where will it now be said, we say. 

In angel courts she’ll speak it still. 

For those below she loved so well. 

Not far away is she, we trust, 

For God is good and ever just, 

And why remove, so far our friend. 

Since loving angels e’re this earth attend. 




42 


Gems of Thought 


Tody Robinson 

Death lurked around your happy home, 
And called a flower above to bloom. 

How great the blow, each one may know 
That’s supped the cup from sorrow’s flow. 

His place is lone at home to-night,— 

Above is felt his radiance bright,— 

The hearth is dim, and tears abound; 

Above is joy, new life is found. 

The grave is dark. What holds it here? 
Fresh gathered from the funeral bier, 

’Tis only clay. His soul—our boy— 

Its casket’s left, for higher joy. 

He’s joined his kin beyond the grave; 

Free from his pain, his body gave; 

His spirit bides, where love may dwell, 

And draweth near, your love to swell. 

His task below, how well ’twas done 
Ere he was called, what friends he won! 
Though life was short, each day and hour 
Was filled with sympathetic power. 

Your loss, his gain. You’ll sadly miss 
Your darling son, his good-night kiss, 

His prattle, too, and child-like plan. 

Though deeper still, they seemed from man. 







Along Life's Pathway 


43 


Brush back the tear, have hope and cheer, 
Hold him not gone, so lately here, 

For soul, as swift as lightning’s dart, 

At times may come to cheer your heart. 
And gather love to bring to you 
From realms beyond, unknown to view. 

A mother dear will miss him here, 

A father, too, he’ll fail to cheer, 

Where Saviour grand may lisp a prayer, 
For children all to come up there. 

His schoolmates, too, his loss will rue. 
The manly worth is left to view; 

His place below unfilled will be,— 

He lives beyond life’s troubled sea. 




44 


Gems of Thought 


Bouen G. Ford 

My friend of twenty years, you’ve gone the way 
All go who bide in tenement of clay; 

Your life below, of fifty years or more, 

Gave promise of a better one in store. 

The woes of others had a friend in you 
That never faltered in a life long through: 

You carried in your heart no hate for man. 

But aided others as the better plan. 

No fiery temper, in your life, lashed you 
To injure those who came within your view: 
You often bore the balm of sympathy. 

Where others carried worldly enmity. 

The higher life you’ve gained, we meekly trust, 
Will find the gems that sparkle in your dust. 
And crown with splendor and delight your brow, 
For all the goodness you have done below. 

The verdant plains now open to your view 
Doth bloom afresh, and gently beckon you 
To tread anew their mossy banks and vales, 

Free from this earth’s tempestuous gales. 




Along Life's Pathway 


45 


Captain B. F. Torrance 

Life’s surging waves have sunk to rest; 
A friend hath gone, at Death’s request, 
To meet the doom we all must meet, 
When soul ascends to judgment seat. 

The angel Death hath borne away— 

He known for years in sphere of clay; 
His eye once bright, now dim and pale. 
But shines, we trust, beyond the vale. 

An old-time wanderer here we miss, 
Two consorts there imprint the kiss 
And join their hands, to help him on, 
Now life is o’er and work is done. 

A genial soul was he below, 

And many friends were his, we know. 
A circle wide he filled with wit, 

As foe or friend will all admit. 

’Mid darkest hours in days gone by, 

For Freedom still he raised the cry, 

And led his men in face of foes 
To save us from the direst blows. 

Two wedded ones still live above 
To welcome to their homes above; 

One left below, ’mid sorrow’s pall. 

May see white streaks in curtain fall. 




46 


Gems of Thought 


To build her hopes, to stay her pain 
For him now gone to other plane. 

And bide her time, on shores of life 
Till death may come to end this strife. 


To children all, we hope a blessing, 

From deep affliction comes a lesson; 

The God of love still broods around. 

And friends look down, from holier ground. 
And are glad in the new life they have found. 


James Todd 

A loved one has left the shores of time— 

No more his form in life we see. 

The mystery in life enshrined. 

In death is solved, friend Todd, by thee. 

You’ve simply gone the way of earth 
Decreed for man in ages past. 

You’ve left forlorn the home and hearth, 
Where hearts of friends still hold you fast. 

The royal road you trod below, 

It shines with luster bright and clear. 

For justice was your guide, we know, 

And what, than this, to man more dear? 





Along Life's Pathway 


47 


A friend to all your brother man, 

As Lodges well attest the story. 

You e’er were foremost in the van 

When duty called—nor waived the glory. 


Mrs. Lumry 

Friend Lumry, these lines I fear 
Can little do to bring you cheer, 

The fireside now is lonesome, too, 

Since one so loved hath bid adieu 

To earthly scenes and children fair. 

And sailed aloft to purer air. 

Where fields more bright, mid angels’ sight, 
Bring joy to her. To you ’tis night; 

The light of life hath ceased to shine 
In casket on the shores of time. 

The soul,—a noble one had she— 

Now shelters in Eternity. 

’Tis free from cares and fears of life, 

It rests beyond time’s tide of strife; 

Its freedom, like a bird of air. 

Is hers, your wife’s, in climes more fair. 

No words can tell to you her loss, 

For Saviour found, who bore His cross; 

A helpmate true hath left your view,— 

A higher plane is hers, ’tis true, 




48 


Gems of Thought 


Her home, where souls abide in love. 

While you below in sorrow move; 

In wisdom’s circles she will gain, 

And solace furnish you in pain. 

Weep not for her, friend Lumry, now; 

You’re chastened by death, tho’ whitened your brow. 
Your children will mourn the exit of her. 

But gilded is hope, that follows the bier. 

She tarried on earth awhile to be loved; 

You’ll miss her so much she now is removed. 

Her memory alone will give you great cheer, 

And oft you will wait and sigh for her here. 

No more she may call you by name, 

But May whispers above, all the same. 

And when life’s tide has washed you ashore, 
She’ll welcome you there, evermore. 




Along Life's Pathway 


49 


Mrs. Judkins 

I go the way of all the earth, 

’Tis thus God’s way to second birth; 

We treasure up life’s form awhile, 

Then burst the clay in wondrous style. 

We flee away to better day, 

The face is hid, the soul’s away; 

It basks sublime in charms divine. 

To realize fair Heaven’s clime. 

The dear one gone is missed below. 

The tide of life hath ceased to flow; 

The light of higher life now breaks 
Upon her vision while she wakes. 

The tomb for her ’tis empty space, 

In lovelier halls she hath a place. 

No cold, cold ground can hold a mortal. 
For death we know is but a portal. 

To brighter fields of heavenly hue 
Where friends no more may bid adieu 
To those they love on mortal plane. 

Our loved one’s gone where God doth reign. 

The other world may hold dear wife, 

While husband battles on with life; 

Who feels this day so full of sorrow. 

It ne’er can pass to brighter morrow. 




50 


Gems of Thought 


But God is good unto the end, 

And farther sees each one the trend; 

She lives beyond, hath gained that land 
So far and yet so near, we understand. 

Wish not her back, your loved one dear, 
And see through each the glistening tear 
That starts adown your lonesome cheek, 
Lights Heaven anew with gilded peak. 

You sad will feel for loved one gone, 

But love is law; an angel’s born 

Who sees you well from heights supernal; 

She’s gained the light from world eternal. 

Chide back the tear that quiet falls, 

She listeth well the spirit’s call; 

Her life work’s done so well we trust. 

The Lord will crown her with the just. 





Along Life's Pathway 


51 


John Paton 

A worthy one hath passed away. 

And left his tenement of clay— 

We mourn his absence from our throng, 

We wish him glory all along. 

His future pathway in new spheres. 

Where gather all of former years,— 

The good and grand and great and small, 
Each one, for self, must answer call. 

And read the record face to face; 

His seemeth clear, well filled his place. 

His labors here were closed full soon— 

He left his post just past high noon. 

No one, we ken, may take the rank 
And fill the place from whence he sank. 

To rise, on other scenes more fair. 

Where Heaven may yield a purer air. 

His Scottish worth we scarcely felt, 

Till Death’s keen stroke on form was spent. 
And story sped around our place,— 

John Paton’s gone, closed up life’s race. 

We’ll sadly miss him on our street; 

His pleasant form we loved to greet; 

Dear ones now join him on that shore, 
Where mortals gather evermore. 

In higher life to still adore 




52 


Gems of Thought 


The God we all may love and praise, 
Whose time doth antedate all days— 
And holds, beneath His scepter high. 
Each living thing of earth and sky. 

Our friend lived here, an honest life 
Not free, ’tis true, from toil and strife; 
But while to matter he was tied. 

That grander life he ne’er denied. 

He felt that joy was still for mortal. 
When freed through Death’s dark portal; 
And while he walked the ways with men, 
He kept the Christ-light in his ken. 

A model man, of royal soul, 

He castled high towards that goal 
Where good may camp along that road 
That leadeth onward to our God. 

A lover of his fellow-man, 

For each he had a helping hand. 

The shams of life brought him no joys— 
He looked on them as foolish toys. 

Where Justice held her royal home 
He loved to dwell, nor failed to come, 
And truth with him was dear to soul, 

With love of Christ his upward goal. 




Along Life's Pathway 


53 


Theophilus C. Thompson 

If boat and flood could raise their voice, 
What story strange they would reveal 

Of struggling soul bereft of choice. 
Arising from that watery field. 

No one was nigh to hear the cry, 

But all can feel, who loved the boy, 

That hope still in his breast did lie 
For all life’s store of youthful joy. 

We’ll never know the story true, 

From mortal lip, of those long hours; 

What agony his soul passed through, 

From death to birth in higher bowers. 

We feel kind Nature ever near 
To children, on this lovely earth, 

But still to us must come a tear, 

No mortal there, at second birth. 

His life went out, we scarcely know 

The how or why—that youth should go, 

And older ones, to bear the blow, 

Remain on earth; but still ’tis so. 

And as it is, then think ’tis well, 

For God is just, ’tis ever true; 

And let much joy the bosom swell, 

For Theo’s worth we all well knew. 




54 


Gems of Thought 


Not much of show, or trumpet blare. 

Amid his life we ever saw, 

But character enthroned was there, 

And love of order was his law. 

He moved amid a throng of friends, 

Who loved him for his real worth; 

That friendship, still aglow attends— 

Though now transplanted from this earth. 

s 

The home, ’tis desolate, we know, 

And at Death’s rudeness we recoil, 

But temper with Philosophy the blow. 

And hope and trust amid your toil. 

’Tis Heaven will send a recompense 
To each remaining one below. 

Two children still you have to bless; 

God grant you strength to bear this blow, 

From mother dear full many a tear 
Will flow adown her furrowed cheek, 

But still she feels that Theo’s near: 

For love can come in ways unique. 

His was a soul of mold serene, 

Of wisdom far beyond his years, 

His simple sweetness ever seen. 

Which still we have amid our tears. 




Along Life's Pathway 


55 


This pall of death, upon you set, 

Will rest as cloud upon the sky, 

But see beyond a coronet 

For lovely boy just passed on high. 


G. L. Moore 

The light of his life hath passed into shade. 

He marched on to death, we trust, undismayed; 

He was stern in his manner, but loving and just, 

A friend he ne’er lost, in His Maker his trust. 

Deception and pride he hated and scorned, 

The tinsel of fashion in life he e’er spurned. 

As true to his friend as the magnet to pole, 

And never deserted, for his was royalty’s soul. 

In the prime of his manhood we met, and we traveled 
together 

About one lustrum—then parted we life’s tether. 

Since then a few times we’ve met on earth’s plane, 
For the ways of our life, then parted, seldom met 
again. 

He has gone to the land where the reign of the just 
Will recognize well the good soul held in trust. 

At the foot of the Cross, with his soul clear of dross, 
He faces finality. Death is no loss, 

But life is a stream, and death is a dream 
That ushers us in, where as spirits we gleam. 




56 


Gems of Thought 


And the day of our birth and the day of our death 
Are incidents only, both fleeting as breath, 

And we glide along swiftly where life has new powers, 
Ajid the door just ajar hath opened new bowers. 

Albert J. Young 

’Tis twenty years since course of life 

Brought brother Young and me to meet. 

Since then our road through joy and strife 
Hath passed, o’er mutual ground our feet. 

I early learned his worth to feel. 

His joyful laugh rang out in air, 

And left an incense real 

Around his presence ever fair. 

Plain in his ways, and true to friend, 

He left his impress where he passed 
As one who builded to an end 

More grand than here, while life did last. 

The record of his days is known. 

And now Death’s real truth is seen; 

He faces now, as each, alone, 

Must do, life’s curious shifting scene. 

It ends not here, but reaches o’er 

To other climes, more grand and fair. 

And while we’re tethered here, the store 
Of future life we fail to share. 






Along Life's Pathway 


57 


He left us in his manhood’s prime 
By Destiny, Life’s line, ajar. 

A broader field than earthly time 
He roams,—so near, and yet so far. 

His place at home unfilled will be 
To partner of his life, grief worn; 

He lives beyond life’s troubled sea, 

How grand this thought, to these that mourn! 

He joins a son, late passed above. 

Nor wanders ’lone o’er plains celestial. 

For others, join him there, with love, 

Transplanted from these homes terrestrial. 

His joyful face we’ll miss on street. 

In memory’s urn we’ll hold his form. 

Now passed beyond where others greet 
The one, that us, in life, did charm. 

Dear ones, who’re left behind to weep 
His loss from earthly form and scene, 

He cannot pass beyond God’s sweep 
Who rules above, as here, we ween. 

A life of labor and of love 

Is done; he’s gone to realms above, 

To join the caravan of souls 

Beyond, where death no more controls. 




58 


Gems of Thought 


A. J. Young 

The silent thread of life is lost to view; 

It shines beyond, its brightness doth renew; 

On higher plane he roams, our old-time friend. 
Let us await, in trust, the final end. 

Our loved one doth raise his voice above, 

Nor hath he lost, by change, his holy love 
For them he left behind, inclosed in clay. 

While he, in spirit, soared to brighter day. 

We sadly miss the gladsome smile of one 
Who lived to love his fellow-man alone; 

No hate he knew in life he lived below,— 

For this he blooms more brightly now, we know. 

The change of state he met in joy and peace. 
For life was love of Him, who brought release. 
He looked aloft, on plains celestial, 

When night closed in upon terrestrial. 

The wife may sadly feel her loss below, 

And children grieve for parent kind, we know, 
But, then, in higher court to have a friend 
Is well for us, who earthly cares attend. 

The grandeur of his life will flow along,— 
’Twill be, in truth, as a perpetual song 
Rehearsed by those who knew him here below, 
And felt his kindness in its love beats flow. 




Along Life's Pathway 


59 


In manhood’s dawn his course was joined with mine; 
One lustrum full, we traveled o’er a line. 

That looked to knowledge’s fountain, clear and sweet, 
As pearls of greatest joy we e’er should meet. 

How many hours we roamed along its field 
Is kept on higher page, the clasp unsealed; 

This memory lives within my breast alone. 

His deeds and jeweled words had genuine tone,— 
For wit and levity he had small place, 

But love and kindness e’er filled their place. 

No child e’er loved its mother’s sweetmeat so, 

As he loved knowledge true and good, we know; 

No word of guile from lips of his e’er fell,— 

Truth sparkled on his eye, love-lit to dwell. 

His life shone out as calm and placid river, 

That will as grandly flow along forever. 

And leave its impress on the shores of time. 

Now he hath passed in peace, to higher clime, 

To meet in joy at the foot of Death’s stream, 

The loved ones of earth, the Saviour redeems. 




60 


Gems of Thought 




Benjamin Hypes 

Our friend hath risen higher 
And left us sad on earthen mire; 

The college hill is draped in woe, 

Its noblest friend hath left below,— 

Gone on to join the risen band 
Who’ll welcome him, on every hand. 

Good works, good deeds, were his on earth. 

What fear had he of second birth? 

That joy, that e’er beamed from his eye, 

Now sheds its luster from on high; 

The crown he sought while here below, 

Is his to wear above, we know. 

His counsels here, we sadly miss; 

They’ve gained them there, please think of this. 
Now drop a tear upon his bier,— 

His life was full, as sunlight clear. 

I’ve known him well for fifty years, 

And, golden grain, he grew no tares. 

To students all in Kendrei’s hall 
Kind words he spoke, no bitter gall. 

Each loved him then, more love him now; 

His face hath gone, with lordly brow; 

The loss to college we’ll ne’er replace; 

His friendship, from beyond, we still will trace. 




Along Life's Pathway 


61 


A century’s work—how near did he? — 
E’er came his higher destiny. 

Unrolling scroll, of life above. 

That still may flash us back his love. 

His heart and soul for college good 
Rolled on and on, no ebbing flood; 

The tide of life hath whirled him on, 
And we below are left to mourn. 

But hope is ours, and faith, and trust 
He’s gone to join the heavenly host. 


Olive A. Blodgett 

A noble woman’s gone to rest,— 

Her soul moved on at God’s behest; 

Her form is left, the casket covers; 

Her risen spirit o’er us hovers. 

Some dozen years or more we knew her; 
And work for good must e’er pursue her. 
On Mississippi’s bank 
There stands a lovely camp 

That owes her much for friendly doing; 
For ’twas her love, its good pursuing. 
She lived to see it strong, and growing 
Into a power for good bestowing. 




62 


Gems of Thought 


No breath she drew but good forever 
For Clinton Camp. We can not sever 
Ollie Blodgett’s name and wondrous love. 
Will not her guidance still approve, 

And crown our camp with victory’s wreath? 
For spirits, such as hers, bequeath 
An impulse, grand to noble aims. 

Fanned from a spark to heavenly flames. 


M. H. Ogden 

Come, gentle Muse, and haste to tell the story 
Of friend gone on, to promised land of glory. 
Long lived he here, all felt him very dear. 

With loved ones many, to join his cheer. 

Fourscore years and more, the shores of time 
He moved along, and drank life’s richest wine 
With relish keen, and greater wisdom found. 
Where plummet of Faith seemed loath to sound. 

His form was weary waiting for the change 
That death would bring, to grander vision’s range. 
And as he anxious peered, beyond the tomb. 

He ever sensed his soul, anew would bloom. 

His rugged form below is lost to view. 

The honest worth, sealed up in him we knew, 
Hath surely left its impress on each one, 

Who trod, with him, the streets of Fullerton. 




Along Life's Pathway 


63 


If goodness counts at all, across the way, 

A brighter crown, must follow him to stay, 

Good thoughts and lovely words, were his to sow, 

And there in future years, they still will grow 
While other blessings follow on, we know 

May clods of the valley, rest light on his clay. 

His spirit still gleams, where far brighter’s the day, 
And the clasp, that fastened his life here below, 

Will unseal much loveliness above, as we know. 


A Friend 

O Death, in cruel haste you come 
And called a loving daughter home. 

Too soon her light of life doth pale. 

And spirit glides beyond the vale. 

To meet anew friends gone from view, 
She’s gone beyond, we bid adieu 
Her casket rest we loved so well; 

Its moving power hath gone to dwell 

In spheres above, where moves the loved. 
Who may light the joy of those who rove 
O’er hills and plains celestial, 

Freed from the clay of earth terrestrial. 




64 


Gems of Thought 


Wish not her back; disease was there, 
To change her youth from joy to care— 
Her place is vacant in your home, 

But memory still may bid her come, 

And fill within your hearts the room 
She vacant left, placed in the tomb. 

In youth she passed to better land, 
Where other friends may take her hand, 
And welcome her to higher life. 

Free from earth’s care and busy strife. 

A father here may miss her dear, 

A mother’s love will fall on bier. 

But glory waits on youth who fall 
In innocence, and wait the call 
Of Master, who will summons all. 

Beyond Time’s tide, what kindred wait, 
To usher in beyond the gate; 

One dear to you now joins her friends. 
Who silent wait at other end. 

To say how well all loved her here 
Is common use of words I fear— 

To say our light hath left our home 
Is true, and floods of sorrow come. 

But let not gloom of death dismay— 

Its darkness doth precede new day— 
And bid you see in life those portals, 
Where linger near your dear immortals. 





Along Life's Pathway 


65 


Mother’s Epitaph 

/ 

Here lies beneath, a heart at rest. 
That once with every grace was blest; 
The friend, the wife, the mother dear 
In peaceful slumbers resteth here. 


Miss Blackwell, at College, 1853 

When storms of darkness rage around, 

And lightnings pierce the threatening skies. 
Then in the breast secure and sound. 

Is centered hope—which never dies. 

As some o’ershadowing cliff doth raise 
Its form above the neighboring plain, 

To indicate the watery waves. 

Along the dark and treacherous main. 

So hope in man doth occupy, 

A fixed and bold and lofty site, 

To guide him through despondency— 

Unto that long and fearful night. 

And when the shores of death are seen, 

And spirits poise to fly away, 

On hope the weary Christians lean, 

While nearing everlasting day. 




66 


Gems of Thought 


Mrs. Allen 

Know this, my friend, you journey o’er a way, 

A devious one, prepared by Deity; 

This does at times seem dark and sad and drear,— 
But then, we must not falter while we tarry here. 

The brambles thick that hedge around your path 
Are wisely placed, by Him who hath not wrath, 
But sees our daily needs and wants on high. 

From higher planes than those you occupy. 

He knows full well your every tribulation. 

That falls around your earthly habitation, 

And while your troubles seem so hard to bear, 

’Tis then, my friend, He draws to you most near. 

The road of pleasure leads o’er treacherous ground, 
All swarming thick with dangers dark around; 

It runs its zigzag course, in lines astray 
From peaceful homes, from Heaven, from Deity. 

Adversity, this is another road, 

That runs athwart, but leads more surely on to God 
It may seem drear, while now you pass it o’er. 

But then hold firm—a better time’s in store. 

The duties, that you weary now, in toil drag 
through,— 

Allow them not to wear upon your brow 
Those lines of care, for they are jewels, set 
To sparkle in your heavenly coronet. 




Along Life's Pathway 


67 


Through sympathy, I’ve penned these lines this eve 
For one scarce known, but hope that they may leave 
Their trace behind, when we are carried on 
To higher life, that fills all times beyond. 


Anna 

Death comes, dear friend, with deep’ning gloom, 
And bears its prize beyond the tomb,— 

The loved is gone, a vacant room 
Is all you see of her, your child. 

That shrine that held her spirit form 
Sleeps in the grave, freed from alarm, 

Nor care, nor fear of any harm. 

Comes to your dear arisen child. 

Her life, that sweetly passed below. 

Now shines on other friends, we know,— 

Your loss, their gain; accept the blow. 

You still may love your darling child. 

Shall love and tears be lost, kind friends? 

Shall clay be left, no other ends 
Attained? God works not thus—but sends 
His chastening wand, and lifts your child. 

A father, then, so dear to her, 

Hath met, with love and words of cheer, 

The darling one, whose loss a tear 

Hath called from all who knew your child. 




68 


Gems of Thought 


She lives serene, now freed from pain, 
Her body back to earth again; 

Her soul mounts up to higher plane, 

A brighter form now clothes your child. 

The mortal dross Death only claims,— 
The spirit lives where love remains,— 
Then rise above your grief and pains. 

And often think her here, your child. 

These lines but feebly tell the tale; 
Death’s storm hath borne, upon the gale 
That freighted her, on onward sail. 

Your dear, and much loved, darling child. 




Along Life's Pathway 


69 


Lincoln 

The Man 

On sorrow’s dark bank our Nation lies low, 

And heaves out its sob in sorrow and woe 
For him that is gone, whose glory remains; 

His life page is full,— no mar, blot, or stain. 

The weeping willow plant beside his green grave, 
And water it well with tears we will not to save; 
No higher use for balm, for sorrow’s pain, 

Than now appears, at Death’s dark reign. 

An ocean of love may meet him above, 

And dash its dark sprays where spirits approve, 
On consort behind, the ward of a nation, 

Enriching her hours, ’mid Death’s tribulation. 




70 


Gems of Thought 


Abraham Lincoln 

Our Nation drapes her face with shame and woe,— 

A hero’s gone, his form in death laid low; 

His spirit’s risen, at call of mandate higher, 

And left its glow along as track of fire. 

His deeds a glorious record fill, 

And live on history’s page, to thrill 
The youthful thought, in ages hence. 

To emulate his life, now lost to sense. 

Our Nation’s loss is higher gain; 

He still looks down from heavenly plane, 

’Mid kindred risen and statesmen high 
Who dares to say such soul can die? 

He lives beyond Death’s gloomy portals, 

Amid those dazzling scenes that light immortals, 

And youthful bloom may claim him once again,— 
Our loved one, rushed out, from garb of earthly stain, 
By frenzied man, ’mid passion’s reign. 





SYMPOSIUM OF GLEAMS AND 
ILLUMINATIONS ALONG 
LIFE’S PATHWAY 


\ 

















Life 

Like as a plank of driftwood. 
Tossed on the watery main. 
Another plank encounters. 

Meets, touches, parts again,— 

Thus ’tis with men forever 
On life’s unresting sea; 

They meet, and greet, and sever. 
Drifting eternally. 

Like as the snowflake on the river. 

Now white, now gone, now sped forever. 

Lost on the rolling sea 

That ebbs and flows continually. 

And leaves no mark to show the trace. 
Thus drifteth life, no resting place. 

As tired bird, on wing at sea. 

Doth seek for rest, with panting breast, 
But fails to And a favored tree. 

So soul within doth seek a crest 
To pillow on awhile at rest. 

And hide its head beneath its wing, 

To rest from toil that life may bring. 

As whitened sail against the sky, 

On horizon, makes hope beat high 

73 


74 


Gems of Thought 


Of weary watcher on the shore. 

For him that sailed long time before, 

So those beyond may watch the sail 
Unfurled to earthen storm and gale. 

And wait with anxious care the gate 
That shines afar across the strait, 

Whose portals gleam beyond death’s way, 
Life’s guide to be to better day. 

As moaning wind in forest’s gloom, 

In autumn hour, doth sigh for home, 

And bear stray leaves from rustling trees 
To mother earth, whose breast receives 
With joy the waif from highest tree. 

And holds it there, by fate’s decree, 

To shelter from the blast that flies. 

Some tender violet that lies 
Until the genial breath of spring 
Doth call it forth to spread its wing, 

And hover o’er the ground in beauty. 

As though it were some welcome duty,— 
So life it seems a lonely flower, 

To bloom on earth one short hour. 

It may be in some quiet spot 
That is by man entire forgot, 

But He who made the violets, 

Think not that He one life forgets. 




Along Life's Pathway 


75 


Thoughts to Elmer 

Your angel friends were near at hand, 

A truth you do not understand. 

Their ways are strange, they come and go, 
And leave us still in doubt below. 

The lines, you said, come not from you,— 
You were the one they did come through. 

Their mission has in part been filled, 

Who thus did speak, through one unskilled, 
Some pretty thoughts in rhyme unwilled. 

What evidence more plain to you, 

That others used your tongue, ’tis true; 
My son, we always have strange powers, 
When death draws nigh; behind her bowers 
Another world doth touch us here, 

Before we leave this mortal sphere. 




76 


Gems of Thought 


Solace for a Friend in Grief 

Oh, husband dear, ’tis hard to find, 

A solace to my mortal mind. 

For stroke so dire, as bore thee hence, 

To bounteous Omnipotence. 

Reason speaks—your body’s cold. 

It must be so, Death’s tale is told, 

Those eyes once bright are now so dim, 

The vital fire has fled to Him. 

While other friends around me wait, 

He’s gone, my first and true helpmate. 
He’s gone, I hope, to another sphere. 

Freer than this, from troubles and care. 

If others hope, then why not I, 

Faith comes, quite clearly from on high; 
Two lives that here have run together, 

Not even Death’s cold stream can sever. 

Cheer up, cheer up, beyond is light, 

Whose gleam illumes thy soul’s deep night, 
The future, though, now will clear, 

As time shall lift her veil afar. 

Yield not then up, to gloom and sorrow. 
But rather trust in the To-morrow, 

Your partner’s gone, this hope, be thine, 
I’ll meet him in, a better clime. 




Along Life's Pathway 


77 


My Mother 

Beyond Life’s Curtain. 

Whence comes this gleam across Death’s stream? 
Or is it from my mind a dream? 

It draws me back to childhood’s hour. 

That now doth seem a pleasant bower, 
Encircled well by mother’s love, 

Which graces now the courts above. 

Her kindly glance of mild blue eye 
Now sheds its lustre ’yond the sky; 

Her merry face in resting place. 

Its radiant beams in mind we trace. 

And all from memory the flowers 

Her deeds hath bloomed in youthful hours, 

To make our life a sweetened cup. 

While toiling on we drink it up. 

Her sorrows well she bore in life, 

And fought quite well, through years of strife; 
To rear her children well, her wish, 

That gave to her her brightest bliss. 

Good-bye, my mother dear, I say. 

Please come to me another day, 

And bring from higher spheres the bliss, 

And plant upon my cheek your kiss 




78 


Gems of Thought 


That’s ever welcome from your lips. 
Though sealed in death, I feel their tips. 
That break at times across the sea. 

And bear their incense sweet to me. 


Soul’s Distress 

Tied to matter by Heaven’s decree, 

I’m sad and dumb as spirit can be; 

My lot I bewail night and day, 

And seek my release from this clay. 

The fiat of God hath tethered me so, 

And covered with dust from nature below; 

In gleams, I steal through my dull dress; 

At times I light up in distress, 

And think of the day, when, far, far away, 

I’ll fly from this garb wherein I now stay, 

And knock at the portals, that’s held by immortals, 
For entrance above — 

At the head of Death’s river, 

Where fairies deliver 

Their freight without silver and gold, 

All made up for angels to hold. 




Along Life's Pathway 


79 


Golden Shore 

Love’s golden cords shall join us one, 

To journey on ’neath circling sun, 

Until we’re borne beyond that sea, 

Whose shores skirt on eternity; 

Whose breakers crest no more with foam 
The weary heads of those who roam. 

But joy and peace instead to find, 

A place for each on Heaven’s incline; 

A spot that suits the wants of each, 

Where all may learn as well as teach, 

Where good we’ve done to credit stands, 

Where love joins love, with holy hands, 

And grasps anew our friends on golden strands 

That anxious wait, with streaming eyes, 

Our advent to those brighter skies, 

Where higher hopes all realize, 

And dark blue tints, for brighter light, 

That heavenly sky may wear to other sight. 

The parting kiss we’ve given here, 

’Tis all returned with interest there, 

And bears along in train the prayer 
That we may climb as well the golden stair 




80 


Gems of Thought 


Whose landing juts beyond the gate 
That opens wide to Heaven’s strait, 

Not held by bristling cannon, turned 
Upon a sad and sickened world. 

Love’s key unlocks this pearly gate, 

And passes through the living freight,— 
The soul relieved from flesh and sin, 

In quiet there is gathered in. 

No dross flows through those bars, we’re told, 
Nor runs upon those streets of gold; 

No muddy slime from sin arise, 

To noxious make those brighter skies. 

But purity and charity, 

Combined in one grand unity, 

Are there, we’re told, by His decree 
Who rules through all eternity, 

And holds within His grasping hand 
The hearts and souls of every land. 

Nor would deny to heathen man 

The place that’s made by His own hand. 




Along Life's Pathway 


81 


Spirit Land 

Around this camp, the unseen press. 

To waft their love and us to bless; 

Their gentle thoughts they pass around. 
This eve, we list to spirit sound 

That carries back to years gone by, 

To friends once here, now gone on high; 
The gates ’twixt earth and heaven above, 
Stand closed on them, we yet may love. 

Their memories brighter here will grow, 
As spirits strong, they come below. 

And tell of higher life they’ve gained 
On holier ground than earthly plane. 

Where mundane bodies, left as dross, 
Their spirit still may flit across, 

And ope’ the door to heaven ajar, 

To light anew mortality’s car. 

With beams from land beyond the river. 
Where death may come no more forever, 
Where echoes float from heavenly choirs, 
That strike their notes on nobler lyres 

Whose melody no mortal ear, 

Ensphered below, can ever hear, 

But rises higher to courts above, 

Where harmony reigns with peace and love. 




82 


Gems of Thought 


Higher Life 

Death’s golden key unlocks the door, 

And sets the spirit free, that it explore 

New fields that spread in grandeur far and wide, 

Laved by eternity on every side. 

This treadmill life, when sped away, 

Must much enjoy the break of day 
That ushers in, with golden dawn, 

The new-born soul on Heaven’s lawn. 

The hopes and fears of death quite o’er, 

When soul doth find the other shore, 

Continues life begun below, 

What ecstasies therein must flow. 

The dawning scenes of higher life 
That greet the soul released from strife, 

Oh, who can paint with words the bliss, 

When soul meets soul in spirit kiss? 

Where friends divided twoscore years or more, 

Do come to meet upon the eternal shore, 

When face to face the inmost thought appears, 

And brings to view the record of past years. 

What pleasure then to scan the bygone scenes 
Of time, that now unrolls her mystic screen, 

And point to ’scapes from sin, and shame, and sorrow. 
Before the clock of death hath knelled the morrow. 





Along Life's Pathway 


83 


The higher life to paint with special power 
The soul, just bloomed above for one short hour, 
Is blessed work. Who knows or dares to tell. 
Save those who may with the supernals dwell? 


The Home of the Soul 

The home of the soul; how far down within, 

Is buried with flesh, that is covered with sin; 

Its source is from God, the wonder of all. 

Its destiny on, as time’s curtain may fall. 

To matter ’tis tied when first we discover; 

As spirit it seems, when death calls it over; 

It quivers awhile, ’mid the flesh and the blood. 

But unloosed from the same, it rushes towards God. 

An angel of light, it lives in the sky. 

And speaks of thy glories, that’s risen on high; 

In the gray of the morn, it smiles as newborn. 

And heralds the day, that brings the new dawn. 

A thing of rare beauty, we feel it to be, 

For God hath last made it, so runs the decree. 

He fashioned the planets, He moulded the sun, 

And made them long ages before he begun 

His work upon man, last work on the earth. 

The home of the soul, the place of its birth, 

The highway of Him, it bedecked His grand roads,— 
As nectar it flowed, first fruit from the gods. 




84 


Gems of Thought 


It was cradled ere Eve had her fall. 

And cast upon man that of sin that we call; 

It rode in bright chariots through heavenly domain. 
Ere mankind was born with all his grand train. 

As messenger it went from star unto star; 

As world upon world was born from afar, 

It guided the helm, that swept chaos asunder, 

And set into ranks the worlds whereon we wonder. 

Ere space’s grand womb was filled with worlds un¬ 
known, 

It had its home with God, upon His altars shone, 
And burned so brightly as a central light. 

That Chaos’ hand-maid, Darkness, fled at her first 
sight. 




Along Life's Pathway 


85 


Mary’s Good-bye 

Kiss me, husband, when my spirit flies. 
Let the beauty of your eyes 
Beam along the waves of death. 

While I draw my parting breath 
And am borne to yonder shore 
Where the billows beat no more, 

And the notes of endless spring 
Through the groves immortal ring. 

With the noontide of your days, 

Yield to twilight’s silver haze; 

Ere the world recedes in space, 
Heavenward lift your tender face. 

Let your clear eyes homeward shine, 
Let your spirit call for mine, 

And my own will answer you, 

From the deep and boundless blue, 
Through our medium who is true. 

Swifter than the sunbeam’s flight, 

I will clear the gloom of night, 

And will guide you to the land 
Where our loved ones waiting stand; 
And the legions of the blest, 

They shall welcome you to rest, 

They will know you when your eyes 
On the isles of glory rise. 




86 


Gems of Thought 


My dear husband. 

Kiss my lips, for I must go. 

Whither swells the solemn flow 
Of the wondrous stream that glides 
Where the loved of earth must soon abide. 
I can catch sweet streams of song. 
Floating down from distant throng, 

And I feel the touch of hands. 

Reaching out from angel bands. 


Child’s Prayer 

Oh, Father high, up in the sky, 
Who hears His little children cry. 
Assist me now in evening prayers, 
A spirit climbs the golden stairs. 

My little periods try to fill, 

To have them say what is your will, 
And help me, as I stand alone, 

And gaze above upon your throne. 


That life to me, please aid to give. 

So I a virtuous child may live, 

Free from the ways of death, of sin, 
That draw their many victims in 




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87 


To pitfalls deep, and dank, and dark, 
Where spirit hath a feeble spark, 

And ocean waves of sinners’ woes. 
With boiling crest, our bark o’erflows. 


The Orphan’s Soliloquy 

A waif upon the land I roam; 

I’m left alone without a home. 

Oh, God, a pity feel for me. 

So lonely now, by death’s decree. 

No mother’s whispers now I hear, 

Her lonely boy to bring good cheer; 
No father’s voice in accents mild. 

Ring out to me, his loving child. 

The day is dark and drapes its face, 

For love seems hid in resting place, 
My little locks my mother curled. 

Now tangled, blow upon the world. 

My face that wore a pleasant beam 
Now shines no more with joyful gleam, 
Death’s shadows moved upon our walls, 
And friends have gone to spirit calls; 
Their love alone upon me falls 
From higher plane, ’mid heavenly halls. 




88 


Gems of Thought 


My daily bread, whence will it come? 

As raven’s food, from higher home? 

Will other friends rise up for me. 

And kindly take me on their knee 

And toy my locks, as mother dear. 

And cheer my life that’s now so drear, 
And brush the tears from eyes away. 

And smile on me as once did they? 

Who’ll sing some songs to cheer my breast, 
Before at eve I sink to rest. 

Or call in accents sweet, a prayer 
To Him above the golden stair, 

To keep me free from ways of sin. 
Through all of life’s discordant din? 




Along Life's Pathway 


89 


The Old and the New 

Around the bier 
We drop a tear 
Of hope or fear; 

We live to cheer 
The now New Year. 

The past one by, 

Its sorrows lie, 

With joys as high. 

But yet we cry 
To Him on high 

For blessings still 
This year to fill. 

Oh plain and hill, 

O’er sea and rill, 

Where’er He will. 

That life may run 
Another one. 

And work be done 
We have begun; 

To injure none. 

Enfold it may 
A joy, each day. 

For each, we say; 




90 


Gems of Thought 


And bring hope’s ray, 
Without delay, 

To trusting clay. 

In Thee we hold 
Our trust, and fold 
Our arms, and mold 
Our plans, for gold, 
And joys untold. 

Those joys we need. 
Bring us, indeed; 

And point or lead 
Each quivering reed 
For wrong to bleed. 

For right, make strong 
Each happy throng 
That moves along 
With merry song, 
Whence all belong. 




Along Life's Pathway 


91 


Christmas 

How grand the thoughts that cluster ’round 
On Christmas eve! It’s holy ground. 

And pour around our way the light, 

That’s streaming still from Bethlehem bright. 

He came in graudeur down the slopes of time, 

A rare example, most sublime, 

To teach to man the holiness of love, 

That flows in streams from God above. 

No higher thought hath held the world 
Than that he taught,—love’s flag unfurled; 

’Mid poverty and pain he wrought. 

And sinners vile he loved and taught 
To look beyond life’s flowing river, 

To endless joy for good forever. 




92 


Gems of Thought 


Souvenir for Seven Lasses at 
Constance 

The waves of life may dash their spray 
Around your faces, now so gay, 

The bloom of youth be swept away; 

Oh, will you then just think of me? 

Life’s hopes, now held, as virgins fair, 

May come to be as thin as air— 

But then will be the time for prayer. 

In which, may you remember me. 

The joys of life, now strewn around. 

And friends once thick, within their mound 
May look on you, from holier ground. 

’Tis then, my wish, you think of me. 

Life’s duties now, so light they be; 

In future years, more heavily, 

Will bring some burdens you will see. 

If time to spare, then think of me. 

When other homes you fill, dear girls, 

And other hands will toy your curls, 

And time has made full many a whirl, 

A little thought bestow on me. 




Along Life's Pathway 


93 


When loving hands their treasures lay 
Around your forms on wedding day. 

And future blooms with blossoms gay; 

Dare I to ask, one thought on me? 

When time has borne you on her wings, 

And other treasures great doth bring, 

And new, but joyful, greetings ring, 

Oh, then, please cast a thought on me. 

When age thy locks doth strew anew, 

With brighter lines, all gleaming through. 

As pearls from Heaven, they’re sent to you,— 
Please, then, dear girls, to think of me. 

When light of life’s a feeble ray. 

And you no longer can be gay; 

While other arms support your way, 

As maidens fair, do think of me. 

When Death’s dull tread is heard by you, 

And friends beyond they come to view, 

To welcome home, as daughters true; 

’Tis then, my wish to think of me. 

When other hands shall raise the mound. 
That covers all for holier ground, 

And you, that higher life, have found! 

At last, and best, do pray for me. 




94 


Gems of Thought 


Birthday Remembrances 

Mrs. Hopkins 

Thy natal day before us lies; 

We pass it by ’neath foreign skies. 

Where loveliness may bloom as well 
As in the land in which we dwell. 

We number ten, the friends met here, 
Around this board, to drink your cheer 
And eat the cake you thought to place 
Upon the board, whose head you grace. 

The milestone passed by you, our friend, 
Marks that another year doth end 
Full well; ’twas filled with many deeds, 

That yet will bear their precious seeds: 

To bud and bloom beyond the skies, 

Wherein this virtue never dies. 

We’ll place no wreath around your head, 

Its girth with gleaming lines that shed 

New luster on your pleasant face. 

That Time’s harsh hand cannot deface— 
These lines of care your brow may wear; 
They show your work well done while here— 
The petty scars thy soul will clear. 




Along Life's Pathway 


95 


Before we close, we beg to say. 

Many returns, this precious day. 

Who calmly reigns this party o’er, 

To see us safe amid our tour— 

O’er mountain, sea, and lake and hill— 
While we our minds with treasures fill. 


Aspasia 

Aspasia, Miletus’ flower, 

That bloomed on earth to shine an hour, 
’Mid Grecian worth and noble men. 

You crowned the head of wisdom then. 
To Socrates you spoke wise lore. 

And Pericles you trained the skill he bore; 
In learning wise beyond your age, 

You treasured knowledge as the sage; 
You journeyed o’er life’s way a while 
With Pericles, dame Wisdom’s child. 

On oratory’s fount you smiled, 
Expressed in him—your husband styled. 


A Gleam 

The old dispensation with its gloom and its fears— 
The new one proclaiming a Saviour in tears, 

As world lay, in Sadduseean gloom, 

Awaiting new hopes, to spring from the tomb. 




96 


Gems of Thought 


Stray Thoughts 

At times life’s ways are lined with clouds 
That seem to hang as dismal shrouds. 

Portending storm of direful wrath on me— 

As if sprung from a Jewish ancestry. 

I wonder oft at Fate’s decree, 

That I am left alone to be, 

To do, to dare, and hopes still reign 
To sift the chaff from golden grain. 

At times some merry thoughts will play, 

As light, across my childhood way, 

And bid me work, with zeal anew, 

To glean the wrong from what is true. 

My brain, it whirls with many thoughts. 

At what my destiny hath brought. 

I often ask my Father high, 

Why was I born, and why must I die? 

Whence came my soul, a spark from God? 

A gleam to shine, to dust be trod? 

Or rise above, and shine again, 

When Death’s dark hand hath chilled this brain? 

My hope, God’s last, best gift to man,— 

Without, a wreck thought fails to span,— 

Is left to me, to guide me o’er 
This life to the eternal shore. 





Along Life's Pathway 


97 


Stray Thoughts 

Who would the rights of man maintain. 

Must look to this, that reason reign; 

Must aid the ignorant man to learn, 

To think, and act for self, by turn. 

The idea that Divinity 
Hath given rights to monarchy 
To rule and reign o’er man and woman 
We think a foul reproach on Heaven: 

For natural right within us lies. 

It is the offering of the skies— 

And will remain, with man below, 

As long as time shall last, we know: 

For when to man a soul was given. 

His right to rule it came from Heaven. 

If matter have a principle within, 

To make the germs of life begin. 

Why not that principle mount higher, 

When clay came forth, infused with heavenly fire? 
The rule of matter is attraction; 

The law of soul, it is free action. 

The one, it is a power within the clod. 

And both alike, one common source from God: 

As much from Gold to hold the granite firm. 

As to become the matter of a worm. 

Nor yet, a difference save in degree, 

’Twixt high-born man and monkey do we see,— 




98 


Gems of Thought 


Each bears the imprints plain of Deity. 

All are but special parts of one great whole, 
Where Nature is the part, but God the soul. 

We see as through a darkened glass outside, 
The soul’s strong wings are fast to matter tied, 
And when we would with reason mount above, 
’Tis then the finite in ourselves we prove. 

And though we toil along, and tire our wings. 
And many failures make, still joy it brings 
To know that we can progress make, each day. 
Towards the higher plane—disrobed of clay. 


Spirit Friends 

The loved ones are here, 
With presence quite clear. 
Their tipping I feel, 

As fingers may steal 
Around face and eyes 
Of those from the skies. 

They’re jolly with mirth, 
To tell their new birth, 

And shower their power 
On me, this lone hour. 

They rap on my dress. 

And love to caress, 

And speak in their way 
To me, this lone day. 





Along Life's Pathway 


99 


They joy to be known 
At the home that I own. 
And ask for a place 
At our table to grace. 

They seek out a room 
Where as spirtis to come 
And call for an hour, 

To aid us with power 
From the heavenly bower. 


Love’s World 

Love’s world is strange, my dearest one, 
And fills our soul with thoughts so strange 
That we bewildered are, and none 
May dare explain or make quite clear. 

’Tis scarce three months ago I came. 

To seek your home in Rockford town, 

I know not why that I was sent; 

I only know you drew me round. 

Not that, I thought, so fair were you 
As some I’d seen since last we met. 

But then I felt your heart was true, 

And hence I, you, could not forget. 




100 


Gems of Thought 


Spring’s gentle shower is falling down, 
Imparting newer life around; 

The lowering clouds all day foretell 
Their store of rain, till now withheld. 

The joy it brings to farmer’s breasts, 

Speaks well of Nature’s loveliness, 

That sees our wants from higher plane, 
And sends to us the needed rain. 

That Nature’s kindness I adore, 

Beyond it still I worship more 

Him who upbuilt the laws so well 

That they bring happiness on earth to dwell. 

This eve my brain is tired from toil, 

And thoughts are scant this page to soil. 








Along Life's Pathway 


101 


My Picture 

This picture now I send to you, 
A shadow of myself ’tis true. 
Keep it you may—return at will, 
Your own will suit me better still. 


To Daughter, for Baby 

Our baby dear, 

That came this year, 

With hope and fear. 

Now brings us cheer, 

Give thanks for her. 

E’er robed in clay, 

Free, from far away. 

Her soul it may, 

Be born to stay, 

For many a day. 

Her life may be, 

A joy to see, 

While on your knee 
She looks to thee, 

For lullaby. 




102 


Gems of Thought 


Life’s Pictures 

Life’s pictures, we see, are rainbows of hope 
That span, in our sky, us to light on life’s slope; 
They raise in our breast the nice thoughts of a rest, 
Where storms of life may not darken the crest; 


That shines from afar where the door is ajar. 

To let her beams play, through mortality’s car, 

As she speeds on her way to those realms of bright 
day, 

To that far-away land where our loved ones may stay. 


The shouts of their joy, they in songs will not cloy, 
As they speak of their home which is free from 
alloy— 

They tell us that pictures of life, in gold frame, 

May be seen over there, placed around a good name. 


That good deeds are the lines that will shine on the 
ground 

Of the portals of Him, who hath passed o’er the 
sound; 

The frame of the picture is a circle of love, 

That reaches around as it falls from above; 

Its gilding is gold, of what cost is untold, 

But it shines as a gem as the ages unfold. 




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103 


It is placed in a room where no mortal can come, 

Till disrobed of his flesh he may seek a new home; 
The angels may hover, and place it ’neath cover, 
That will freshen it still, till the pilgrim’s gone over. 

This drawing is decked in our mind all aglow, 
With loveliness stately, ne’er seen from below; 

As a scroll ’twill unroll, when eternity’s view 
May open upon us and becken us through. 

'Twill shine with good deeds we have done in our time 
To those who have journeded our way, on life’s slime, 
For good works, they will grow in new luster each day. 
Nor will painting of them e’er grow dim or decay. 


Cornelia 

(An Acrostic) 

Cornelia, here when years have flown, 

On this you’ll find recorded bright. 
Remembrances of friends well known, 

Now dear in heart, though lost to sight. 
Elate with hope you’ll read their names; 

Like flowers they’ll bloom in memory’s vase, 
In which each souvenir retains 

A charm which death can ne’er efface. 




104 


Gems of Thought 


Miss M. F. A. 

A newness of life may now fall on your way— 

Its strangeness may dazzle with glimmering ray; 
Hopes in your bosom may rise and may fall. 

As gleams from the future your mind may recall. 

New love, with its hopes and its fears and its sorrow. 
New friends who will gather around on the morrow,— 
All these they may speak in a language so queer 
As to frighten your soul at the step that’s so near. 

The change of your house for another one here, 

Will call to your mind so much sadness, my dear; 

At times you may feel to recall that blest word, 
Whose throbbings I feel, my life blood hath stirred. 

In dreams you may see some strange visions arise, 
That cause you to wonder, and look with surprise 
At the change in three months in yourself may have 
made. 

Your freedom, part gone, and your love, too, is stayed. 


The gains in the future, we hope, may arise. 

As dewdrops of joy that may gild your new skies. 
And span your bright spirit with rainbow of hope, 
To light you adown life’s ruggedest slope. 




Along Life's Pathway 


105 


Your trust it hath won from my heart your assent; 
Your faith in my word may you never repent; 
Your steps, you now bend to a day we unite. 

May they never grow weary in life’s path to delight. 


For Jennie 

She crossed very soon the ocean of life. 

She left very soon, this turmoil of strife— 

She landed full soon, at the gates of the stream— 
That flows through the portals where pure souls 
may gleam. 

The loved and the left, will miss her below. 

Her father will grieve with much sadness we know, 
A sister will miss, her wit and her joy, 

Her mother has gained the household toy. 

Weep not dear ones, too long for her, 

For death brings joy above we hear. 

Her sunny curls may others cheer, 

While all is sad for you and drear. 





106 


Gems of Thought 


For a Friend 

Oh husband, dear, ’tis hard to find, 

A solace to my mortal mind, 

For stroke so dire, as bore thee hence 
To bounteous Omnipotence. 

Yet reason speaks—your body’s cold. 

It must be so. Death’s tale is told. 

Those eyes once bright are now so dim, 

The vital fire has fled to Him. 

While other friends around me wait. 

He’s gone, my first and true helpmate. 

He’s gone, I hope, to another sphere, 

Freer than this, from troubles and care. 

If others hope, then why not I, 

Faith comes, quite clearly from on high; 
Two lives that here have run together, 

Not even Death’s cold stream can sever. 

Cheer up, cheer up, beyond is light, 

Whose gleam illumes thy soul’s deep night, 
The future, though, now will clear. 

As time shall lift her veil afar. 

Yield not then up to gloom and sorrow, 

But rather trust in the to-morrow, 

Your partner’s gone, this hope be thine. 

I’ll meet him in a better clime. 





Along Life's Pathway 


107 


Written for Short 

When college life has flown away. 

And other scenes encircle thee, 

I ask one thing—wilt thou obey ? 

Your album read, and think of me. 

Read it, and think of ’Kendree’s walls. 

Of college parks so fine and fair; 

Read it, and think of one and all. 

The things that ever happened there. 

Read it, and think of lessons learned, 

In days and months and years passed by; 

Read it, and think of those that turned 
And trod the path as you and I. 

Read it, and think of teachers kind. 

Who graced the recitation room; 

Read it, and think of friends confined 
Within the dark and silent tomb. 




108 


Gems of Thought 


Golden Jubilee of Spiritualism 

Dear fiends, this golden jubilee, 

Doth witness bring humanity 
That freedom still doth reign below. 

’Tis superstition’s bitterest foe. 

The plans of church, and creed and priest. 

We see and know, at this Love-feast, 

We gather round—immortals near 

Their thoughts impress, they lead and steer, 

And bid us hope for much this year. 

How vain to fight the truth, thus given, 

Brought us, by Denizens of Heaven, 

For truth will rise, brought from the skies, 

As mortals soon shall realize. 

In other days, we hope forever gone, 

Our people sought for bread, but got a stone. 

And yet we hear the sound of strife and woe; 

It comes from church, how strange to know. 

We prove the gates of bliss are open wide, 

For all that pass along Death’s murky tide. 

And ever wait, receiving spirit freight,— 

No toll is needed there to pass that strait. 

The high, the low, the rich, the poor, death’s door 
Shall find, release from flesh forevermore, 

And gain admittance to that higher plane 
Away from earth, and all to her pertains. 




Along Life's Pathway 


109 


The glad surprise of angels’ eyes 
Will meet us there in fond surprise, 

Will close this trip of earthly sail, 

And glide in port beyond on rail 

Not made of steel, but moved by Heaven’s gale. 


Lost Thoughts 

Across the Sea of Memory, 

Her wavelets break at times on me— 

And on their crest they bear the graves 
Of those I’ve lost,—another current laves. 

The friends once ’round, new ones have found, 
But old ones still may hold their ground, 

And fastened still in memory, 

While time shall roll across the sea. 

Your merry days, with youthful ways. 

May ne’er be dark with saddened lays. 

But brighter grow, while time may flow. 

And bear you on where all must go. 

The gems of joy that now you toy 
May then be true, without alloy. 

And gleam on your life’s way forever, 

Nor darkness come, their light to sever. 





110 


Gems of Thought 


May you along life’s busy throng 
E’er joyful be, with happy song 
Your heart to fill—while Maker’s will 
Thy pleasant form to leave us still. 


Scintillations at 78th Year 

The eight and seventy years have flown, 

And left their lines on me, I own; 

Their waves have dashed around my life, 

At times stirred up in wildest strife. 

They wash debris around my soul, 

’Til seemed to overflood the whole, 

And sink me deep in darkest place 
Where light could find no resting place. 

Thus groped I on for forty years, 

’Mid smiles and griefs and joys and tears. 

As pendulum, swinging to and fro. 

From fullest joy to keenest woe. 

At last my eyes were opened up; 

I’d seen the darkest of life’s cup, 

And shadows from the other world 
Came flitting on, their flags unfurled. 

Like magic now, new scenes unrolled, 

And widened on my mental scroll; 

They called new thoughts, I know not where,— 
This much I know, they came with cheer. 




Along Life's Pathway 


ill 


They spoke of other lands beyond. 

Where life may go when death comes on, 
And whispered in my ears anew, 

And seek new fields when life is through. 

The earthly house dissolves as mist. 

And spirit one shines out, we wist, 

And grander grows, on higher ground. 
Than here on earth is ever found. 

Time bears me on, in rapid flight, 

To other scenes that may delight. 

If I am true to what is right. 

Within my soul, the inner light. 

Dear friends, may I hold on, I pray, 

To walk along the narrow way. 

And meet life’s issues day by day, 

While I on earth below may stay. 

Your prayers I now would ask for me, 

To aid me on, at eight and seventy, 

To travel o’er life’s downward slope, 

To land beyond of joy and hope. 




112 


Gems of Thought 


The Mystic Rap 

(At Hydesville) 

The mystic rap from Hydesville came 
From little children, Fox by name,— 

Has run the circle of the earth around— 

And caused the world of thought to sound, 

With leaded line, for life beyond. 

The skies grow clear, and senses bright, 

As we peer across the tomb for light, 

And word comes back, “We live, beyond,” 

Which means to us a joy profound. 

In sorrow and sadness, no morrow of gladness, 

Lay the world, with the tomb for a goal, 

Some inspiration, ’tis true, in small doses with mad¬ 
ness, 

But the light of the future was slow to unfold. 

Two small girls, ’tis true, not yet in their ’teens, 

Were moved on to tell, what seemed to them strange. 
Of a power to them queer, that laid open vast scenes, 
In an alphabet new, and a language transcending. 

A tip and a rap, and a very faint tap, 

Was noticed to come as they laid their hands on 
Some table or chair, as ’round them they sat 
In that home, near ground Rochester stands on. 




Along Life's Pathway 


113 


Chaos 

Adown the aisles of time and space. 

Before the universe took form, 

I central hung, with darkened face. 

Most furious lashed by chaos storm. 

Faint gleams of light electric ran, 

From nadir to the zenith high, 

And spoke that still there was a plan 
Evolving worlds—a Deity. 

But darkness still was most intense. 

Through space, dominions far and wide, 
And grandeur lay concealed from sense. 
Awaiting still, the moving tide. 

Eternity my form did hide. 

And silent space concealed my face, 
While age rolled age far down aside. 
Before a gleam of dial’s place. 




114 


Gems of Thought 


Giesbach Falls 

I come, I come from my mountain home, 

I leap the crags and dash the rocks among, 
I bathe the mountain sides with spray, 
White as angels’ wings, they say; 

The tall, straight pines I cover o’er 
With mist I raise amid the roar; 

I clothe the ferns along my way 
With delicate mist, from day to day; 

I sparkle gayly as I run, 

And sing, though work is never done. 

The grass along my course is green, 

Since watered by perennial stream; 

The form upon my brow hangs light, 

As if placed there by angels’ might 
The music I give is Nature’s voice— 

The reason why, I must, I have no choice. 
My melody is felt by heart 
More deeply than the skill of art; 

My silent, never ceasing roar 

Will find each heart, the sacred door, 

And nestle there, its voice sublime, 

That tells us of that far-off clime 
Where heavenly roar of angels’ song 
Is heard on high the whole day long. 




Along Life's Pathway 


115 


Pike’s Peak 

Lone sentinel in grandeur stand, 

You point above to higher land. 

And cause our thoughts on high to climb 
To Him who reared thy peak sublime 

We praise the crest; upon thy breast 
We love to billow on, at rest. 

And breathe a prayer, along thy stair, 

To Him who circles everywhere. 

Adown the steeps of time, so far 
Thy birth must be, in Nature’s war, 

The mind doth wander from its line, 

And Faith supplants fair Reason’s shrine. 

In torrents rose thy fiery wave. 

From depths of earth, and lowest cave— 
And launched its molten matter high, 
Along thy breast to fiery sky. 

Ablaze with flame and sulphurous smoke, 
Wide circle round with wonder woke. 

And mass of flames and swaying fire 
Arose to meet its Maker higher. 

Thy jagged hills and rocks aglow, 

Made room for others still below. 

And fires above, and fires beneath. 

Have circled thee with scarlet wreath. 




116 


Gems of Thought 


About such thy birth has been. 

Cradled in earthquake, not born in sin, 

Rocked in billows of heat and fire, 

Wert thou Pike’s Peak, we all admire? 

In awe we stand upon thy granite crest, 

And view great Nature’s work from east to west— 
The landscape smiles and grandeur meets the eye. 
Till heavenly blue around our sight may try. 

The stately peak in grandeur stands; 

A landmark grand from Nature’s hand, 

It tells of warring times before 
Historic page hath culled its lore. 

Its rugged heights with rocks o’er flown, 

Sent there, it seems, from lower zone, 

’Mid leaping flames and crushing sound. 

Thy stories rose from round to round, 

Until they pierced the lighter air, 

Of Babel heights, nor yet despair— 

A glow of fire, enwreathed with smoke, 

In thunder tones your echo spoke, 

And told your rise from lower earth. 

Where fiery torrents e’er have their birth. 




Along Life's Pathway 


117 


Love’s Thoughts 

This day in brightness shone on me. 

My thoughts on trip to land beyond the sea, 
The points I gained seem strange and new, 
And were quite strange if they were true; 
I’ll not repeat that which I heard, 

’Tis better not to write such word— 

For they may lead me far astray 
From happy walk or brighter way— 

That I can win the prize I wish, 

’Tis plain to me. What greater bliss? 

But prizes, when they blanks do prove, 

We should not hasten to remove, 

For love intrinsic only wins; 

To counterfeit the same is sin,— 

To paint its rosy tint around, 

Where heart is wanting, soul to crown, 

In shameful waste of life’s true flower, 

To bloom alone, for one short hour. 

They fade away and drop below. 

And leave the barren stem to blow. 

That barren tree, may I not be, 

But whom I love, may she love me— 

And if I fail to find this one. 

Help me my life alone to run. 

Secure from dangers great and small, 

And women short and women tall, 

And women round, and women lean. 

And women bad, and women mean. 





118 


Gems of Thought 


Lines to Father at Age 94 

If man may die, whence still may fly 
That which we call the real I? 

The ages still repeat the cry 
To me, not far from seventy. 

The friends of youth have passed the bay 
That lies across life’s hidden way. 

Are gone, I feel, for quite a stay— 

Do I approach now near to seventy? 

How few are left to aid me here 
And fill life’s cup with flowing cheer! 

They’re gone; don’t say we know not where, 

For light is clear at seventy. 

Through memory’s halls strange thoughts may steal, 
And flit across as if ’twere real, 

Portending much of joy, I feel, 

That I have reached to seventy. 

I gather gleams of absent faces, 

I pass review of distant places, 

And tether thought in queer like spaces, 

And wonder still at seventy. 

I look around for friends in mound, 

Long laid in cold and silent ground. 

And ask that question most profound 
To me; life’s line at seventy. 




Along Life's Pathway 


119 


A father lives across the land 
Near by the broad Pacific strand. 

He waits, and watches death’s command, 
It seems to me, at seventy. 

At ninety-four, he seems content. 

And rests on life’s accomplishment, 

At nature’s way doth not relent. 

He quotes me young at seventy. 

Life’s curious urn well filled to brim, 
With golden border on the rim, 

What record made, if bright or dim. 

Seek Wisdom’s ways at seventy. 




120 


Gems of Thought 


Eternity’s Timepiece 

On Eternity’s plateau I stand 

And mark the ages as they pass, 

And note on every hand 
Primordial matter vast. 

Deep veiled my face, with age so hoary— 

As weights, I have the primal force; 

The figures on my face they tell a story 

Of ages past, ne’er numbered in their course. 

The rust of centuries on my case 
Speaks of those ones long passed by, 

And point to treasure great in spirit’s place, 

Ere principles in form of law I did descry. 


My wheels and cogs are wondrous fine, 

Drawn from the ample fields of space. 

And tell of workman from the mine 

Whence ether came, and filled the waste. 

’Twas then I prophesied of man. 

So far agone no numbers will relate 
Their story, and saw, dark veiled, a hand 

That would all matter shape through a relentless 
fate. 




Along Life's Pathway 


m 


My form shone so bright 
At Divinity’s light, 

That darkness of chaos 
Withdrew from my sight. 


“I Go the Way of All the Earth” 

Text of Mr. Ray 

I go the way of all the earth. 

’Tis thus God’s way to second birth; 

We treasure up life’s form awhile. 

Then burst the clay, in wondrous style. 

We flee away to better day— 

The face is hid, the soul’s away— 

It basks sublime in charms divine 
To realize fair Heaven’s clime. 

The dear one gone is missed below; 

The tide of life hath ceased its flow. 

The light of higher life now breaks 
Upon her vision, while she wakes. 

The tomb, for her, ’tis empty space; 

In lovelier halls she hath a place. 

No cold, cold ground can hold a mortal, 

For death, we know, is but a portal. 




122 


Gems of Thought 


To brighter fields of heavenly hue 
Where friends no more may bid adieu 
To those they love on mortal plane,— 

Our loved one’s gone, where God doth reign. 

The other world may hold dear wife, 

While husband battles on with life— 

Who feels this day so full of sorrow. 

It ne’er can pass to brighter morrow. 

But God is good unto the end 
And farther sees, each one the trend 
She lives beyond, hath gained that land 
So far, and yet so near, we understand. 

Wish not her back, your loved one dear, 
And see, through each, the glistening tear 
That starts adown your lonesome cheek, 
Lights heaven anew with gilded peak. 

You sad will feel for loved one gone, 

But love is law; an angel’s born 

Who sees you well from heights supernal— 

She’s gained the light from world eternal. 

Chide back the tear that quiet falls— 

She listeth well the spirit’s call; 

Her life work’s done, so well we trust. 

The Lord will crown her with the just. 





MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND 
THOUGHT ECHOES 















Flag’s Legacy; or. Burr Oak Grove 
Address, July 4, 1879 

Our Country, ’tis to thee to-day we raise 
Our voices filled with anthems to thy praise; 

’Mid stars and stripes, and smiles and flowers beneath. 
May we inspired be with Freedom’s breath. 

O’er hill and dale, where’er we cast the eye, 

Behold His tireless gifts, who rules on high, 

In one vast sheen doth lie the harvest fields 
Replete with all the goods which Nature yields. 

Great source of joy His bounties bring to all,— 
Alike on peasant in his hut they fall 
Or ruler high in state or marble hall. 

No one is independent here below, 

For all to each for happiness must go; 

Society doth join us by one band. 

Circling the rich and poor on every hand. 

The scourge that brings the tiller of the soil to pain, 
It blasts full soon the commerce on the main, 

And like a poisonous wind its breath is felt 
From sea to sea o’er this wide continent. 

125 


126 


Gems of Thought 


The rains that ’round us pour the furious flood, 
They fall on what man styles both bad and good 
And must, it seems, from holier sources flow, 
Although within their train we see a Richmond’s woe. 

This glorious day still finds our country free: 

Great God, how can we still enough praise Thee 
For all the blessings Thou hast deigned to give 
Us in this glorious land, in which we live? 

A land replete with homes for man and woman 
Such as are found nowhere this side of Heaven: 

A land in which the labor’s gains belong 
To him who does the work, and not the strong. 

No slave within our borders now doth hide 
His face in shame, but each with manly pride 
Rejoices in the name of freedom set 
In burning letters in our coronet. 

No titled men here grope their way along, 

The gaze and admiration of the throng, 

But all in each doth find equality,— 

Fruitage not grown on trees in monarchy. 

Each mind within the circle of my voice 
Is free to exercise a freeman’s choice— 

And intellect here fills a higher place 
Than e’er before assigned to any race. 




Along Life's Pathway 


127 


All here may join in bands for common good, 

And work as friends within the brotherhood— 
Without the fear of rulers, trained to hate 
The man who toils beyond his neighbor’s gate. 

Our products now, they whiten every sea. 

Fit messengers to tell humanity 

That here is found beneath our virgin soil 

Substantial comfort for each weary toil. 

Our ideas, too, proportions wide they fill. 

And gather fragments near and far at will. 

To build a state of beauty, rare and grand, 
Protecting each from all on every hand. 

Our land on every side is ribbed with steel. 

That binds us all in common woe or weal— 

With lightning’s fire we are girded round and round, 
And daily use this servant most profound. 

Here in this broad America we see 
All “isms” trace a show of charity. 

And though they fail to gain the seal of truth, 
Still Justice, sceptered high, guards from abuse. 

Know well that here the wise man is the state— 
Sublimely grand or dangerously great,— 

The martyred Lincoln, he may here be crowned, 
And just beyond, a Burr or Arnold found. 




128 


Gems of Thought 


Here public schools on vantage ground stand high,— 
A power within the state we glorify; 

Their work, well done, no tyrant overthrows, 

Equal to foreign or domestic foes. 

Guard well these jewels from the God above 
Where rules alone the principles of love; 

No higher, grander gift than these are given 
To any other land beneath the heaven. 

’Tis here that Freedom guarantees to all 
The full protection of the great and small, 

The good who needs no law, himself a rule. 

The bad who needs restraint, must learn at school 

The principles so well implanted here 
By fathers in the past, of memory dear. 

Well guarded, be our hope,—supremely well 
From evils, that around us surge and swell. 

Those dangers rise from sources multiform; 

As hidden foes, they flit around and swarm 
As dusky bands or fiery partisan, 

A sable emblem in this glorious land. 

Think not our dangers o’er ’mid Freedom’s gift, 

A glorious burden but a heavy lift; 

We bear the future, its most precious prize. 
Freighted with all man’s costly merchandise. 





Along Life's Pathway 


129 


The equal rights of man this train contains, 

Could it then support more golden grains,— 

Fit food on which for gods to feed and grow, 

Were they allowed to move in flesh below. 

The right to property, and all its gains. 

Our equal law most justly here sustains; 

But like the snow, that even falls around, 

May e’er few hours, in ridges vast be found. 

It glides and melts away as mist on hill. 

Save prudence guards it with a vigorous will, 

For here the common good is common weal— 

The loss of one, the gain that others feel. 

The power of ideas in this land is great. 

Can you or I this doubt, who’ve seen the fate 
Of institutions shielded by the law 
Cower, tremble, and fall as things of straw? 

’Tis true the reign of justice here begun 
May by the foes of man be quite undone, 

But right at length, it must and will prevail. 

Smile not on me, who quote this oft-told tale. 

The goodness, friends, that’s cast your lot and mine 
Within this broad and charitable clime 
Will in the future, as the past, remain 
A rainbow promise sent from high domain. 




130 


Gems of Thought 


I cannot close these thoughts, friends one and all, 
Without some passing tribute, great or small, 

To thee, O Woman, savior of the race, 

Man's arbiter, his glory, joy, and peace. 

Where’er we go, ’mid life’s best good or ill, 

In thee we find our bliss and solace still, 
Whether amid the joys that comforts yield 
Or circled- by the woes of battlefield. 

In thee a polar star that’s ever true. 

Whose light shines pure and calm to mortal view; 
Ne’er dimmed by passing cloud, it shines on high 
The clearest light vouchsafed humanity. 

Courage to all who lonely hearts have fears, 
Freedom will dry quite soon her tears; 

Tremble thou not for tyrants’ hate and scorn, 

’Tis the gray dawn of rose-eyed morn. 

Swift toward the dusky zenith 
Mounts the bright auroral ray— 
Downward o’er the western shadows 
Soon shall shine the new-born day. 

Lo! Man’s ancient faith is waning, 

And his iron rule of might; 

Woman, from her slumber rising, 
Struggles upward to the light. 




Along Life's Pathway 


131 


Unto noble deeds aspiring, 

See, she flings away her toys— 

By a higher aim ennobled. 

Seeking more than gilded joys. 

In the golden fields of labor 

She shall prove that she hath a soul 
Worthy soon to be his equal, 

Traveling to the self-same goal. 

But not his, the strongest fetters 
That have crushed her holy trust; 
Fashion, and the love of pleasure,— 
These have bound her to the dust. 

Rust of ages, eat the chain, 

Break the antique links in twain! 

In our minds and from our hearts. 

Now a nobler worship starts. 

Let the old dominion f all! 

New ones rise upon each wall! 

In the broad, bright fields of youth, 
Scatter wide the seeds of truth. 

Then, when fall the autumn leaves, 
They will bear the golden sheaves 
For the poor and the distressed, 

For the weak and the oppressed. 




132 


Gems of Thought 


With the labor-loving class 
Let us struggle with the mass— 

Free from their ancient fetter— 

Light alone can make them better. 

Let us seek, in love and duty, 

Pearls to deck the brow of beauty 
When we break the golden chain 
Binding heart and soul and brain. 

Fashion, ease, and pleasure all, 

When the old dominion falls 
Then we may in justice claim 
With our brother equal fame. 

Brighter then our lights shall be. 

In the fields of Destiny 

Woman weak, crush all your fears, 

Freedom is not won with tears. 

Worlds of toil with heart and brain, 
Toil alone will break the chain— 
Waken! See, the auroral ray 
Now foretells the coming day. 

In the future, love shall rise 
In prayers of peace up to the skies; 
Then fly ye, fiends of hate and scorn 
’Tis the gray dawn of the morn. 




Along Life's Pathway 


133 


Mother’s Right 

Where might makes rights the tyrant rules; 
In Justice’s court is Freedom’s school. 

Who e’er by law persecutes one sex 
Is guilty of most gross neglect. 

In higher courts than this we know, 

Is justice for each sex, I trow; 

Who molds the child for good or guile, 
Should cull from the broadest field the while, 
As wildest flower its freedom shows, 

And unjust laws, its heritage of woes. 

O man, proud man, why blind thy mother 
With laws unkind, unfit for brother? 

Why fix thy sisters’ feet by fate, 

Yet loose the brother small or great,— 

A daughter bind, to have no say. 

While son runs wild upon election day? 

In labor’s field, for man the best. 

Poor woman takes what is unblest. 

Man makes the laws, and takes the life, 

And makes the slave of mother, wife. 

What rank injustic to our race. 

Thus to ignore the mother’s place; 

The colored man we dealt him well,— 

The ballot gave. Oh, do not tell 




134 


Gems of Thought 


We left the patriot mother silent out, 

Yet called abroad the roustabout 
To make our laws, and give us rules 
To guide our land o’er treacherous shoals, 
Our ship of state, our country free, 

To higher place, and greater liberty. 


Closing Year 

My daughter dear, the closing year 
Hath filled its chalice up with cheer. 

Nor hath it left in eye the tear 
For friends low lain within the bier. 

We’ll raise to Him above the prayer. 

That lives beyond the golden stair, 

For all the good He sent us here. 

Within the past, the dying year. 

Fresh hopes we’ll raise from earthen bank, 
And cull the flowers from places dank, 

And drive from breast the thoughts of gloom, 
Thus give, to better ones, the room. 

We’ll make new resolutions, too, 

To last, we trust, life’s journey through; 
We’ll gather sprays as sunlight rays, 

To light our path along life’s ways. 




Along Life's Pathway 


135 


We’ll reach our friends the hand of joy, 
That life to them may never cloy. 

But fuller grow in future time. 

And spread its light o’er lives sublime. 


Wavelets of Thought 

(Platonian Society) 

’Tis ten and fifty years since we 
Have left these classic grounds so dear, 
And steered our barks on unknown sea, 
Where waves of life have wastes so drear. 

In lonely hours of each new thought,— 
Thought far away, not e’er forgot,— 

The good each brother did we know, 
Though years of time have sifted through. 


The locks of gray we clearly saw 
Are ours, were yours, by Nature’s law; 

Once young, and only once, we know, 

As time sweeps on each step the Now. 

A look behind, how short a space, 

Recalls to me each Plato’s face. 

And brings some joy for me, and you, 

Though death her brood of grief doth strew. 




136 


Gems of Thought 


As silent roll of her we call, 

The absent ones rise up in hall 
To cheer us, with their memory, 

Whose wavelets break on you, and me. 

And on their crest they bear the graves 
Of those we’ve lost, another current laves— 
Gliding with noiseless tread along. 

Still friends, though severed from our throng. 

These, comrades once, new ones have found, 
But old ones still may hold their ground. 

And fastened yet in memory, 

While time shall roll across its sea— 

Your merry days, with youthful ways, 

May ne’er be dark with saddened lays. 

But brighter grow, while time may flow, 

And bear you on, where all must go. 

The gems of joy that you now toy. 

May they be true, without alloy, 

And gleam on you, life’s way forever, 

Nor darkness come, their light to sever. 

May you along life’s busy throng 
E’er joyful be, with happy song 
Your hearts to fill, while Maker’s will 
Your pleasant forms to leave us still. 




Along Life's Pathway 


137 


Walser’s Rhymes 

Twas in the merry month of May, 
One year ago, I think, to a day, 

When I receiv’d your letter true 
To one I wrote before to you. 

Pray think not I have been remiss 
In heart, my friend, for not ere this 
Replying to your clever mood 
In which you gave me mental food— 

A pabulum, I ne’er refuse, 

Although it cooled my gentle muse, 

And, from that very day and time 
Till now, I could not spin a rhyme. 

But as the jingle comes again 
I’ll soar away to God’s domain, 

And if, perchance, I find his nest, 

I’ll keep some eggs and sell the rest. 

So here we go, now mark the aim. 

And let us have a god as game,— 

The gods, you know, in former days, 
Were as profuse as common fleas, 

But now the stock of gods has run 
So low, it takes three to make one. 

Spinoza made the matter worse. 

By making God the universe; 

Which means but this and nothing more: 
The gods are dead of ancient lore, 




138 


Gems of Thought 


And nothing now of them remain, 

But the faint jingle of the name, 

A name that takes all nature in, 

Like church-fair broth, gets very thin; 
And by the time it gets around. 

Has nothing left of God but sound. 


No God I have, no priest I tithe, 

And never on church soup could thrive; 
But if I had to eat an “ist”; 

I think I’d choose a pantheist. 

But they have been, too, so alert. 
They’ve chas’d God down to common dirt, 
The source of ev’ry phase of life, 

And here we’ll let them rest awhile, 
Although their visage makes us smile. 

You say your next will be on “sin,” 

A right good theme. Will you begin, 

And let me know of what offenses 
Will admit of man’s defenses? 

Friend, do not do as I have done. 

And let the course of twelve months run 
Before to this you make reply, 

Or knock my jingle, high and dry— 
Because it is a feast to me 
To get a line or rhyme from thee; 




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139 


They take me back to days of yore, 

When Courage walk’d the country o’er, 

And we could then to life depend 
Upon the pledges of a friend. 

But I must drop this burning theme; 

It bursts upon me like a dream. 

And I live o’er those days again 
Where Pleasure liv’d in Battle’s reign, 

Or what was worse, as we can test,— 

When vigils broke the tide of rest. 

When woman wept amid alarms. 

Men flew to the saddles and to arms, 

And faced the foe with eager bound, 

Whene’er he heard the bugle sound. 

But peace o’er all Missouri reign’d 
And you to office were retain’d 
And righted many rebel flaws. 

While I engrafted wholesome laws 
Upon the statutes of the state 
To keep the foes of Freedom straight. 

But things have changed since then, you know; 
And you and I have changed some too. 

But lest I bring a tired sigh 

From you, I’ll say, “Old Friend, good-bye.’’ 




140 


Gems of Thought 


Which God? 

Which god, my dear friend, would you now have me 
praise, 

The gods of the present or of former days? 

There are gods without number, you surely will own, 
From the crocodile down to the bull and the stone. 

’Tis very important, when praises we make, 

That we should be careful and make no mistake; 
For oft we are told, with threats half impressing, 
That hell is afloat with poor souls for bad guessing. 

For life that throbs in me, I cannot divine 
Which one of the gods I should look to as mine: 

There is Humbo, Jumbo, Nyiswa and Oro: 
Nee-ba-new-baigo, Unktahee, and great Manito; 

Jove, Juno, Jupiter, Hypnos, Pallas, Or os 
Somna, Monus, Neptune, Heros, Hebe, Eos. 

There is Buddha, Bramah, Vishnu, Siva, Chrisna, 
Ruma, 

Indri, Agni, Mitra, Nirrip, Nebo, Soma. 

Jehvah, Hadad, Alla, Indra, Moloh, Zeus: 

And many demi-gods, as Fo, Gosh, and Jesus, 

All claiming devotions, you know, of mankind, 

For services render’d but not well defin’d. 




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141 


Perhaps we should thank Him and be very good, 
Because He has mix’d so the good with the bad— 
Made sickness and sorrow, disease and pain 
So thick, when you’re out, you’re in them again. 

Which keep us poor mortals in torment and fear, 
Lest we catch Old Nick here, and hell over there; 
Therefore, we should praise Him, with accents most 
terse, 

Because in His making, He made things no worse. 


Pantheism 

RESPONSE TO WALSER 

Friend Walser, I hesitate to say 
The God I praise this latter day, 

A God, so wide, so overspread,— 

You would place pantheism on my head. 

But this I say in my premise. 

No God of any one do I despise— 

For He to each is one most wise. 

As you and I do realize 

No word within our language is 
That can describe His mighty phiz. 

For limit He has none 
Within each circling sun. 





142 


Gems of Thought 


And power to him or her 

(I care not what the sex, I do aver, 

Yet from my point, the feminine prefer) 

So stately grand on every hand 
To move as by a magic wand. 

The wisdom, too, displayed in all, 

Is such as highest man cannot recall, 

But not without a plan, it seems to me, 

And hence I call her, simple Deity. 

By Deity or God not much I mean. 

For little do I grasp within my brain; 

No higher light to me is given, 

Than what from pantheism is riven. 

A God in every point and atom too, 

This seems to me, the one most true; 

A God that overspreads all space, 

She seems the one, who has most grace. 

A God that clambered down the steeps of time. 

All mossed with age, before that time began, 

A cause, without a cause, unthinkable queer thought, 
A builder ne’er made, a school ne’er taught, 

A sphynx, a riddle strange is she,— 

Such is my wise and subtle Deity. 




Along Life's Pathway 


143 


Review Nathan Gregg’s Ball 

(Lines by Amos Thompson in the early forties) 

At Nathan Gregg’s of late we see 
A fine jovial company— 

To while away the lonesome night 
With social company so bright. 

The young and gay in rich attire, 

And middle age with want of fire— 

In pleasure’s circles did unite. 

To pass away that stormy night. 

There some did go who years before 
Disliked to see a ball-room door; 

But age and reason, both combined, 

Have brought them to their sense, we find. 

There in the front did Willis stand, 

With Mrs. Dashner at command, 

And Marion in the jovial band. 

With Nathan’s daughter by the hand. 


Lieutenant Glasgow there we see 
With Polly Ware. Ah, who but he? 

The music starts, the throng goes "round; 
With love and joy their hearts abound. 


t 






144 


Gems of Thought 


King David in his youthful prime, 
Compared with this, small pleasure finds, 
And Solomon, his lawful son, 

Would leave his temple for this fun. 

And now, dear friends, a kind adieu. 

Few scenes like this they will renew, 

And when Spring makes again his round, 
May joy and happiness be found. 


Cyrus Thompson’s Review of the 

Above Poem 

And now, dear friends, a kind adieu, 

Few scenes like this they will renew; 

Since fifty years, how few can call 
The names of those at Nathan’s ball. 

As time wears on, we’ll grow apace, 

Friends will scatter, and not a face 
Of aged and fair, young and brave, 

But will lie silent in the grave. 

To those of us who may grow old, 

For scenes like this fond memory holds 
A loving tribute to them all— 

To those who danced at Nathan’s ball. 





Along Life's Pathway 


145 


With failing sight and tottering age, 

At ninety I review the page, 

As backward turn my thoughts to-day,— 
With sadness will I scan the way. 

Now gloom and sorrow, age and death. 

Pass by me like a fleeting breath; 

And many friends of days “Lang Syne” 
Are gathered in the heavenly clime. 

Farewells to Dashner have been said. 

Our tears on Nathan’s grave have laid; 

And Glasgow true has joined them, too. 
While Marion answers at review. 

Willis also who taught our school. 

Was no exception to the rule; 

The Lacys three and Francis all. 

Have heeded to the angel’s call. 

All these and more have passed the door 
That leads from Time to distant shore; 

The rest of us, a gray-haired band, 

Near Heaven’s portals now we stand. 

Farewell to friends of olden time, 

Farewell to those who caused these rhymes; 
Farewell to children, wife, and all, 

Farewell to scenes at Nathan s ball. 




146 


Gems of Thought 


Dog Beauty 

(Written by Amos Thompson) 

How sad the thoughts, for me to think 
My dearest friend has left me. 

Forever more the kitchen door 
Will firmly close against me. 

No more the smile of that dear friend 
Will I be allowed to witness. 

Oh, wicked flea, it’s plain to see 

The trouble you have brought me. 

The pleasant sleep I have enjoyed 
Upon the kitchen floor. 

In memory shall forever rest 
Until time shall be no more. 

I’ll try to gain what I have lost, 

Of her kind womanly affection, 

And may in future still for me 

A chance there be for reconciliation. 

Farewell, till time shall change her mind 
And mollify her feelings; 

And make her see and pity me, 

Poor dog, though I shall ever be. 




Along Life's Pathway 


147 


The Voice of Nature 

O’er Nature’s works there stands a sentinel 
Whose lips, though sealed, in eloquence they tell 
Their Maker’s praise, who doeth all things well. 
’Tis silence reigns supreme, remote and near, 
And holds in secret that to man most dear; 

Upon the silver wave of ocean strand, 

Among the star-lit depths of Heaven’s band, 

She rules supreme, ’mid ether holds her sway. 
And penetrates to depths of space away, 

To the regions whence the mist of mystery 
Ne’er rise up to let in light of history; 

She sounds his grandest praise in silent notes. 
And when she loudest speaks she is most mute. 
To understand her ways, seek Nature’s book— 
Take lessons where you may of babbling brook. 
If murmur here disturb fair Silence’s reign, 

Seize on the sunbeam. Ask it whence it came, 

Or whither flies; to what remoter scene 
Is gathered up its essence so serene. 

Whence speeds this silent ray upon its way, 
Where rests its silent work at eve of day. 

Is garnered up this quivering beam on high. 

To light new worlds and deck another sky? 

Is lost in depths of space, and found anew, 

A point of motion or an atom, too? 

These questions ask of her, disrobed of dust, 




148 


Gems of Thought 


But echo answers in Him to trust. 

Who wondrous paints the flower its varying hue, 

Or seals up sunshine in the morning dew, 

Or reads the blushes on the maiden’s face 
Or clothes her in a woman’s matchless grace. 

Ask Time to sing a song of days of yore, 

How when he launched his boat from primal shore— 
And sailed adown its stream ’mid Chaos wild, 
Nature’s first-born, but not her fairest child. 

Sad Silence looks adown with kindly eye, 

But deigns not speak about this mystery— 

For she doth babble not of Nature’s plan, 

Nor condescend to tell when time began. 

The space that wraps the universe around, 

Imagine where its end, if it be found. 

The depths of ether which it holds in place, 

Hath it a fountain whence it flows in space? 

Here Silence rests and points to Deity 
As great first cause of all—Infinity. 

PART II 

Thy still small voice, whose echoes sound along 
The corridors of Time, whence Chaos strong 
Leaped from thy womb; it comes whence darkness 
reigns, 

And order had no place in thy domain. 

The past holds in its breast the hidden seals. 

That lie as diamonds in the blackest fields; 




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149 


The present lures us on to delve adown 

For knowledge from Creation’s lowest round— 

O’er all the fields of earth, ’neath lowest bed, 

A brilliant light is seen from Nature shed, 

And round each stratum glimmers still a light 
Revealing one First Cause, who sealed up Night, 
And chained her fast adown to Chaos’ car, 

That fled away at sight of primal star. 

Her robes disordered and her tattered train 
Loomed hideous black as order ’gan to reign. 

For well she knew that order was death’s knell, 

To all that riot ran in Chaos’ hell. 

And darkest fiends in hideous shapes surround 
Her darkened trail, and monstrous noises sound, 

As they retreat low down to fartherest verge, 

Where scarce is heard above the faintest dirge. 
They speed away to fartherest depths of space, 
Again to find a final resting place 
Where order holds o’er them no silent rod, 
Proclaiming once for all there is a God. 

Vain, vain the search in space confines again 
A spot to find where Chaos supreme reigns. 

For this would be to limit power above. 

And place the devil on the throne of love, 

To dictate laws for man and woman— 

But then these laws themselves are born of Heaven, 
And since high-born they be, their impress bear. 
And force on and on the primal car 
That ne’er can rest till farthest point is gained, 




150 


Gems of Thought 


Most distant from Creation’s arch, where space 
should end. 

But space can end nowhere, it seems to me, 

For that would be to limit Thee, O Deity. 

But limit is unknown to God above. 

’Tis thus a God to Chaos still we prove, 

But reason thus, admit no ruler there, 

Is to deny that God is everywhere; 

Then Chaos of the past is fixed by lines 
That hold her, struggling, firm ’mid wildest times. 
That wrought from out her matter, ’mid heat and 
thunder. 

Those forms which made the world at which we 
wonder. 


PART III 

Is’t true it was decreed that man shall be, 
Within a given sphere, an actor free? 

A.s child within the room may look outside. 

And wish ’twere free to travel far and wide? 
Yet held within a narrow scope is he, 

By loving parents’ just and wise decree. 

The child, as man, a broader range beyond 
May wish to reach and hope to look upon, 

But Deity hath kindly shut her eyes 
To past and future scenes; there only lies 
A narrow strip of land between to scan, 

For thus is focalized the power of man. 




Along Life's Pathway 


151 


Eternal Father, bounteous to all, 

Within Thy broad domains, unheeded fall 
No living things, however great or small; 

Each hath Thy care who heareth every call. 

Thy wisdom planned the universe adown 
The steeps of time, where mind hath never flown. 
And from chaotic mass was order born, 

First child of thine, upon that early morn. 

The laws that rule each sphere throughout all space, 
Must first have been thy thought, their scope to trace, 
And grade them all to hold within control 
Dull matter, till it upward mounts to soul: 

And then its confines—marked they be 
By higher laws of Deity: 

For spirit hath its laws as well 
As what in grosser matter dwells: 

That moulds and rules the higher life 
By purer laws, more free from strife. 

But still imagination fails 

To reach where law doth not prevail. 

These rules that lie in Nature’s ways 

Were wisely fixed in primal days 

By Him who reigns throughout the spheres, 

The same as for a million years. 

But strangest of the works of Deity 

Are you, O man. Within your sphere quite free 

To act as reason tells you well, 

Within the range in which you dwell. 

But wisdom differs much in man. 




152 


Gems of Thought 


Which too doth seem of God the plan. 

Who made the wise man and the clown, 

Yet made no two alike, we own. 

Relentless man, in whom there glows a soul. 

Why sit you down and rest this side the goal. 

Why falter as you travel o’er the way, 

A devious one prepared by Diety? 

God’s signals light on every hand the road 
That mortals journey to their new abode. 

Old honest Time has placed quite plain his seal 
On every volume Nature doth reveal; 

And wrote a language, plain to understand 
By those who wish to read, on every hand. 

It speaks in tones that echo everywhere 

That God is great and good. Then why despair? 

For each doth fill a link in Nature’s chain. 

And rivets are cast on high to bear the strain. 




Along Life's Pathway 


153 


Mountains on Lake Constance 

Your peaks, full bathed in amber tints. 

They seem a messenger of beauty sent 
To speak us of the grandeur lies 
In other lands beyond the skies. 

Ofttimes suffused with molten gold 
And crowned with varied hues untold, 

They seem some jewels vast, firm set 
To shine on high in Nature’s coronet. 

And point to man what gleams afar 
May cluster ’round high Heaven’s boudoir; 

O tell the glory of the higher home, 

Where nobler workmen paint on dome, 

And pencil with her rays divine, 

The dregs of which on earth do shine. 

Vain man: how puny must thy efforts be. 

To paint those heights upreared by Deity, 

And give to them each shade and hue 
That’s tinged about with heavenly blue; 

Or separate the dark spots from the bright, 

As bathed they are in evening’s mellow light,— 
Those crags upheaved in Nature’s war, 

Adown the stream of life so far. 

The mind of man it tires in flight. 

And fails to see a gleam of light 
Speed from the centuries gone by,— 

To tell how long was theirs to lie, 




154 


Gems of Thought 


Before the voice of God, in thunder tone, 

Saw fit to raise them from their ocean homes, 
And crown their heights with heavenly waves, 
Long held within earth’s lowest caves. 


Dogs as Beasts of Burden in 

Germany 

Poor Tray, a tear unbidden flows, 

To see your race (how great her woes!) 

To draw around in milken can 
The food that Nature makes for man. 

Your liberty beyond the sea 
Is sadly trenched in Germany, 

And though you fail to feel the woes 
That cruel man on you bestows,— 

Who drives you round in early morn, 

To bring the food his board adorns. 

How great your wrongs, who knows or cares? 
But the God of man is surely yours. 

And sees amid your galling chain 
The sympathy you need in pain. 

Man’s truest friend, how hard to bind 
You down as slave, compelled to mind. 




Along Life's Pathway 


155 


A servant true, how much you rue 
The liberty that’s here robbed you; 

Your faithful love you bear to man; 

This seems enough in wisdom’s plan: 

Here further used in various ways, 

How much it pains to end your days. 

All harnessed up,—hear Freedom’s knell 
Ring out thy doom. Oh, Tray, we love so well. 


Oconomowoc 

Oconomowoc, you are the red man’s talk 
For coon, that’s shuffled off his mortal walk; 

Thy pretty sights allure the traveler here, 

From points remote as well as those quite near. 

The chain of lakes encircling you on every hand 
Are beautiful gems, magnificent and grand; 

Like burnished steel, they shine in verdant settings, 
Nor waste their time in idle envy, fretting. 

The ways of Naure, here disclosed to man, 

Seem various and quite diverse to scan; 

Her fancy hereabouts hath run to water. 

Than this, what brings more joy to son and daugh¬ 
ter? 




156 


Gems of Thought 


Upon the banks of Fowler and Labelle 
Are seen man’s works in cottages that tell 
Of leisure, taste, refinement all that spring 
In breast of man, or mount on upward wing. 

They tell of those who seek for joy and rest 
Away from heated cities, smoke, and dust, 

And gather from this clime the strength of brain 
To fight anew life’s battles o’er again. 

The young and old together mingle here, 

The brave, the gay, the beautiful, the fair,— 

All seem to chase the hours with busy feet, 

As they on sixty golden wheels retreat. 

The fish within his realm lies not secure, 

For office holder, judge, and priest demure, 

With line and hook, and squirming bait thereto, 

Make daily havoc on the finny tribe below. 

With arduous labor, here and there they try 
To force the battlements of pleasure that defy 
Man’s every effort, to scale their luring height, 
Though made in earnestness from morn till night. 

Upon Labelle with waters smooth and glassy, 

We see the merry lad, and charming lassie, 

Bring joy and pleasure up from Nature’s well, 
Walled in by flowered banks and shady dell. 




Along Life's Pathway 


157 


They sing the song long sung before by man, 
That hath its story told since time began,— 

It is a song that grows not old with age, 

And has been known to capture saint and sage; 

It trills and trills along the breast of man, 
Since Eve her wondrous labor here began 
Of building up the race from nakedness, 

To higher planes of fashion and of dress. 


Lines on Bunker Hill for Elmer 

I send again some thoughts to you, 

Now settled on Atlantic’s slopes, 

Where Freedom had its birth anew, 

And patriots prayed for higher hopes. 

Within New England now you live, 

The dreaded foe of England old, 

Her hardy sons refused to give 

The tribute claimed by tyrants bold. 

But when Stamp Acts across the sea 
Were passed by men of high renown. 

In Boston harbor went the tea, 

And curses rose against 

The redcoats swarmed around those hills, 
Enforcing mandates from the throne; 

And patriots’ blood it ran in rills. 

Protecting what it thought its own. 




158 


Gems of Thought 


Brave Warren here the foremost fell; 

In Freedom’s fight he placed his all 

And nations yet unborn will tell 
The story of his fatal fall. 

On Bunker’s Hill there stands a spire 
That tells of deeds of patriot sons,— 

See it an emblem all admire 

Who love the acts of worthy ones. 

Their deeds are frescoed on Time’s walls. 
Are traced on History’s page with steel; 

The future then will oft recall. 

And stamp anew with memory’s seal. 

No higher place our country holds 
Than those who sleep on Bunker Hill. 

One century now unrolls her scroll, 

And yet their light is streaming still. 




Along Lifers Pathway 


159 


Truth 

Truth lies below—nor fails to shine. 

Like gold, its purest, dug from deepest mine; 
It glows afresh in rosy morn. 

In face of youth it hath great charm. 

It shines afar on fields of space, 

As jewels it the heavens doth grace; 

Where mind of man hath never flown, 

Are royal gems it calls its own. 

See the bright sparks, by Newton shed, 

Who struck it forth from hidden bed, 

And tore from higher skies the seals 
That covered up what Nature’s law reveals! 

A Franklin, wise beyond his age, 

Claimed wisdom from this hoary sage 
When first he drew the lightning down, 

That Jupiter before had crowned, 

And bade it go, for use of men, 

O’er hill and dale and rugged glen. 

Its gleam was harnessed up by Morse, 

And sped its way as ne’er race horse; 

That grandly now on errands run 
Which ages slept, ere truth was won. 

The mind of man, what fertile fields 
Deep down within, what truth it yields! 

What hidden thoughts within it glow. 

And speak as truth, a soul below! 




160 


Gems of Thought 


The Fall of St. Charles Bridge 

Amazement, horror, fills the mind 
That views the wreck, now left behind. 

Of structure set against the sky,— 

A darkened line, soon doomed to lie 
Beneath Missouri’s turbid waves, 

Where stricken mortals find their graves. 

The vacancy that now doth span, 

Where late thy mechanism, O man, 

Doth speak in silent voice the tale 
That sped in haste on Sabbath gale. 

Borne on the lightning’s wing it flew, 

A tale of horror, yet too true; 

The bridge hath fallen from her height. 
Amazed, the hastening crowd makes flight. 

To see the sickening wreck in sight, 

Lit up by hasty faggots’ gleam. 

Quick improvised to light the stream 
That turbid flows along its way. 

Regardless of this saddest day 
That sets in woe upon the town. 

St. Charles, her name long handed down, 

Her people quickly aid to raise 

Those held beneath the wreck, whose cries 

Show harvest death not realized. 

No vain appeals for aid were made. 

But men were heroes in night’s shade, 




Along Life's Pathway 


161 


Urged on by women near at hand, 

Who’re ever near with soothing wand. 

l 

i 

The wreck of cars and cruel beams 
Stood there as scars upon the stream, 

The living freight still pent up lies, 

And with its wail it rends the skies. 

And makes night hideous with its cries,— 

For aid from pain it speaks to man. 

Though call from brutes. All help who can 
To clear the stream from moaning freight 
That near death’s portals still may wait. 

Drawn down thy curtains round the light, 

And spare us evermore the sight 
Of frowning wreck cast down by jar 
Of railroad train, or vaulting car. 

What cause may be that broke the span 
Ne’er may be known by wisest man; 

If flaw in steel that yielded to the strain, 

Or jumping wheel that moved the ties whence lain, 
One fact remains, Death bridged her gate 
With fearful mass of living freight. 

And while we mourn the friends below, 

We thank our God no worse the blow. 




162 


Gems of Thought 


Mount Rigi (Switzerland) 

On Rigi’s heights, the land of Tell, 

Are views and scenes on which to dwell, 
For it doth have a history. 

That’s veiled in part by mystery. 

Tell’s chapel stands at foot, a place 
Fair nymphs of freedom ere will grace, 

A spot the mind of man, if true, 

Will feel the beat of liberty anew. 

Amid these scenes, in times gone by, 

Did Tell his skill with arrow try; 

An apple placed on head of son. 

He pierced it through, the deed well done; 

Another arrow forth he drew, 

And shot the tyrant Gesler through: 

Thus runs the legend—story old— 

And tells this tale of Tell so bold. 

From heights above we see spread o’er 
A landscape ’neath with beauty’s store, 
The fields of wheat, and plats of vine. 

In blended tints upon us shine. 

They make a picture, set in frame, 

All burnished ’round with heavenly flame; 

Within its vast expanse the eye 

Will haste its strengthened skill to try, 




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163 


And sweeping round the circle o’er 
New fields of Nature will explore, 

For here a smiling landscape gay 
May reach for many miles away. 

The snow-clad Alps in loveliness 
On east and north do raise their crest, 

And speak with silent grandeur praise 
To Him who did their peaks upraise 
In early times, before was heard 
The voice of man ’mid ocean’s surge. 

Those Alpine peaks, with crest of snow, 
Are points of beauty seen below, 

Which may suggest to mind of man 
God’s works, how grand,—in all a plan. 

Where wildness seems to speak, intense. 

In Nature see her loveliness; 

Where soil is scant, on rugged hills, 

The heart doth joy with freedom’s peals. 

Here race of man we find to dwell. 

That fought in freedom’s fight so well; 
The land of Swiss has come to be 
A synonym of liberty. 

Her mountain turrets rise to view 
On every side, defend the true 
From royalty, that clangs her chain 
From land of Czar to coast of Spain. 




164 


Gems of Thought 


The Austrian yoke was made to yield, 
Five centuries past, to Alpine steel: 

Nor land of France, nor Germany, 

Can slice her up in harmony. 

She’s Nature’s pet, to teach to man 
That all who would be free—they can. 


Christmas Reveries 

We gather ’round, this grand old day. 

To lisp His name who in the manger lay,— 

A Son of worth, who rose to shine 
In brilliancy down the aisles of time, 

And cast more light on life’s dark places, 

And gather more joys for distant races, 
Proclaiming new truths to the souls of men 
And telling of hopes beyond life’s ken. 

How grand the thoughts that cluster ’round 
On Christmas eve. ’Tis holy ground, 

And pour around our way the light 

That’s streaming still from Bethlehem bright. 

He came in splendor down the slopes of time, 
A rare example, most sublime, 

To teach to man the holiness of love 
That flows in streams from God above. 





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No higher thought hath held the world 
Than that He taught, love’s flag unfurled; 
’Mid poverty and pain He wrought, 

And sinners vile He loved and taught 
To look beyond Life’s flowing river, 

To endless joy for good forever. 


Thoughts to Daughter at Rome 

This gloomy day doth shadows throw 
Around my spirit’s genial flow, 

And speaks to me in sadder tones 
Of voices gone to higher zones. 

The drizzling rain may drive around, 

And soothe my soul with mournful sound; 

I am happy still with higher view 
That lights my soul in rapture through. 

Another week has fled away, 

And in the womb of past doth lie; 

Another Sunday’s bells do ring 
The pious out from homes, to bring 

To worship in the temples raised 
By men on earth for God’s own praise, 

Who seek the pulpit for its power 
To save their souls from clouds that lower. 




166 


Gems of Thought 


Let those who will seek house of God; 

I’ll praise Him from my own abode. 

And seek to pen some lines to thee, 

Now in the land of Italy. 

That charming land ’neath brightest skies, 
Where highest hopes all realize,— 

That land where ancient Rome held sway. 
O’er nations near and far away, 

And gave to man his legal code. 

And mistress o’er all seas she rode; 

Her flag, it waved on Britain’s isle. 

And Africa’s land she ruled awhile. 

O’er Asia’s fertile field she ran. 

And conquered, too, the holy land, 

Her victor arms she carried wide 
As world then known, from side to side. 

May you while there enjoy the sights, 
Made glorious by those ancient lights. 

That shone in splendor from Rome’s hills, 
Where patriots’ blood e’er pulsed in thrills. 

May you gain joy from temples grand 
That rise above on every hand 
To deck and ornament that land. 

Where pilgrim, now, you seem to stand. 




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i 


Fail not to bring a record home 
Of ancient^ also modern Rome, 

Who sits on Tiber’s yellow stream, 

And rules the world by thoughts, I ween. 

Her Vatican, you’ll see with care, 

Grand place to congregate for prayer, 
Where Pope, adorned, tiaraed, crowned, 
Doth send his bulls the world around. 


Falls of Giesbach 

A silver ribbon band I flv 

From Brianze Lake high in the sky; 

My mist as fair, a mantle hung 
Like flag of truce from Nature flung, 

To cease life’s strife—above is sung. 

It calls on all to stop awhile, 

And gather rest with Nature’s child, 

Her mountain pet, all clad in white; 
Since fiat came—“Let there be light.” 

O Art, build high your domes around; 

I envy not, since ever crowned 
Myself with diadem from Heaven, 

The workmanship from God alone is given. 






168 


Gems of Thought 


Leap Year Banquet 

Come, Terpsichorean muse, to aid, 

And join with me, quite undismayed; 

A union strain will seem to be, 

For muse of dance to sit with me. 

But, friends, we’ll journey on life’s way, 
While I may show the sports so gay 
They were in town of Maryville, 

A city set upon a hill, 

Whose light ne’er dimmer may be seen, 

As time her scroll may intervene. 

Her matrons gay and maidens fair. 

Profuse with locks of curling hair. 

And faces mild with merry smile, 

Did meet in hall to spend a while 
Of mirth and joy; together run 
And mingle well their cup of fun, 

That sparkled o’er with pearly beads 
Which leave in place their better seeds, 

To bud and bloom in after years, 

When age hath brought her marks and cares. 

We met around, a jovial band. 

To crown bissextile year at hand. 

And prove to all that freedom’s won. 

For sex that’s fair, her course to run. 




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The liberty of Leap Year she 
Hath grasped and planted on the tree. 

To grandly grow in future years. 

When maids are matrons with life’s cares. 

A merry dance gave cause for joy, 

To many hearts that else would cloy. 

And found within their beat a place 
That brighter grows as years may chase 
Their shadows on life’s changeful face. 

The ladies well their work have done. 
Whene’er did woman fail, beneath the sun, 
What she in earnest once begun ? 

With kindly thoughts each want was filled, 
With kindly word each man they willed 
To join with them in festive glee, 

Was made to see life’s joyous tree 

That grandly casts its shade around; 

And Adam joyed when Eve was found, 
Who lured him on, ’tis said, to sin, 

To eat the apple gathered in 

By her, from Eden’s tree so nice, 

She plucked it off within a trice, 

And by her boldness made her fate, 

To be subject unto her mate. 




170 


Gems of Thought 


I’ll venture not on scripture ground, 

In Bible lore I’m not profound. 

I’ll only say she should be crowned 

With honors bright while here below, 

The grandest gift to men we know,— 

For she is helpmate, kind and true, 

When other ones they turn to rue. 

♦ 

The festive sport she planned in hall, 

For other sex, we’ll oft recall, 

’Twill grow more bright as memory’s lines 
May throw their gleam in future times. 

And mark in each of us a spot, 

That ne’er in time may be forgot, 

But gather gems from stream of life, 

That pearly runs this vale of strife; 

And waters with its joyous stream, 

The hearts of those that joyless seem. 

The future, too, its tale will tell 
Of Hymen’s victims that may dwell 

On Leap Year’s party at the hall, 

A point from whence they date their fall 
Into the bonds of wedded care, 

The meshes wove within Leap Year. 





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Stray Thoughts, at Lucerne 

See mountain slopes in spots well clad with pines, 
While side by side are seen the pale green vines 
That grow their luscious fruits, whence flow the 
wines, 

Fit drink for gods they claim in former times; 

But now it’s come to be in use each day 
For man clad in his robe of mortal clay. 

Who drinks it all day long with pleasant joy, 

And gathers from it pleasures full without alloy. 
The juice of grape now glads the peasant’s toil— 
Who worthier than the tiller of the soil, 

Whose labor made all Europe bud and bloom, 
Where once was naught save forest’s deepest gloom, 
So dense that in it hid the shaggy beast. 

Sought for by savage men, whereon to feast? 
Those times remote, we learn great chieftains raised 
Those castles that we now give loudest praise. 
’Twas then that labor had small price, we’re told, 
And held as heritage by chieftain bold. 

Who used it without stint in many ways. 

That they might live anew in future days. 

Thus on the Rhine we see her hills all crowned 
With man’s vast work from age sent down. 

To tell what glory did some knight of old, 

To rear some tower perhaps with gold he stole. 

I may speak harsh, but shades of chieftain tell, 

If what I say, truth in it may not dwell. 




172 


Gems of Thought 


Soliloquy at Leap Year Party 

The evening hours, they rode away 
On chariot time, to God of day, 

While merry dance hath moved the feet, 

And pleasant smiles each one did greet. 

The early morn, from night that’s born, 
Came rolling in, with cheerful dawn. 

And bore us home, ’mid dreams to roam, 
Till breakfast late hath bid us come. 

In lassitude and toilet scant, 

With wearied eyes that see aslant, 

We gather ’round the breakfast meal, 

And memory’s thoughts of night we steal. 

The bloom of joy comes from the bowers, 
Our thoughts revert to former hours, 

To glances kind, from other mind. 

And many a sign that love entwined. 

The golden past we see unrolled, 

Love’s pressure still is ours to hold; 

The gleams of joy, that ran afresh. 

Are ours again in happiness. 

Mirth’s portals we may storm anew, 

And friendship made to last life through; 
The merry faces come and gone, 

Are ours complete in memory’s home. 




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The joy of life new graces find, 

In festive thought ne’er left behind, 
To bloom again, in future years. 

And solace us ’mid life’s fears. 

That come, alas, to one and all, 

At banquet board, or leap year ball, 

And shadows cast from funeral pall, 
That move upon life’s dial plate. 

And mortals make disconsolate. 


Lion at Lucerne 

Hard by in shade of Sandstone hill. 

There lies a beauty, ’neath a trickling rill; 

It was conceived within a royal brain. 

Fit monument to tell of worthy slain. 

Brave Swiss, who fell defending loyally 
The crown of France and Bourbon royalty, 

A lion of proportions huge, each way immense, 

Is carved in rock—his attitude defense; 

The dying pain upon his face is seen— 

Yet still in Death’s embrace he is serene. 

The broken spear is seen from side to draw, 

The upper part is held by paw, 

While guarding still the shield of France from harm, 
Death’s subtile grasp is stealing o’er his form. 




174 


Gems of Thought 


This noble work by Danish son conceived, 
It tells full well the power of brain to weave 
A crown for self—a beauty rare and grand 
That is admired by men of every land. 


Laboring Man 

God help the laboring man 

To lay aside life’s cares awhile, 

To view his neighbor’s plan. 

And gather rest from Nature’s smile. 

Give time the cottage plant to twine 
With blooming rose, and evergreen. 

That he may make his home a shrine, 

A temple fit, to worship in. 

Give hours enough to rest from care, 

And time enough to spare for prayer, 

That soul may learn to climb the stair, 

Where upper landing’s over there. 

His spirit’s growth needs time for thought; 

The faith for each must be outwrought, 

If he would be a shining light, 

To clear the way from gloom of night. 

Relieve him from the load of want, 

That does at times his manhood daunt, 
And aid with sympathy to bear 

Him through dark days of deep despair. 




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The Babe 

The tiny babe fresh sphered in clay, 

That doctor brought from miles away,— 

A harmless tale all parents say,— 

That opes its eyes, and peers around. 

What thoughts are there, if man could sound? 
How fain it tries to swallow fists. 

And would succeed but for the wrists. 

Who looks upon this face may tell 
The possibilities that dwell; 

As mainspring coiled, within they lie, 

And speak they come from Deity, 

Who will unfold this pretty flower, 

Fresh brought from some immortal bower, 

And crown it well in future years 
With wisdom’s harvest, gleaned in tears. 
Though dark its prospect in life’s main, 

Who dare to tell its future gain, 

As, drifting on life’s sea, 

It gathers stores from science’s tree. 

To husband for Eternity! 




176 


Gems of Thought 


Thoughts 

See thought within her darkened chamber’s chart, 
At every crevice where the light may start, 

As Afric’s lion fierce doth tear the bar. 

So thought doth strive to force her doors ajar, 

To gain admittance to the realm of light, 

Where force is energized to human might. 

And vocalized within the brain of man, 

In narrow sphere, would comprehend God’s plan. 
Vain thoughts in thee to look on Deity, 

Whose soul doth fill up all immensity, 

Whose grandeur flows in ether’s waves between 
The worlds of matter that may intervene, 

Whose spirit power in ceaseless waves doth roll, 
And through its fineness permeates the whole; 

It masters matter, with its shaping hand, 

To form alike the water and the land, 

On which in future time to build up man. 

And form a world within a world to scan 
His various works and ways since time began; 
Vain work, O man, to comprehend His ways, 

A spirit, that doth antedate all days, 

And ruled in splendor from a royal throne; 

Ere matter had been formed—he sat alone. 

And back of Nature yet he seems to dwell. 

And holds in hands secure a chaos Hell 
That strives at times to riot run ’gainst law. 




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Which fails to win, for God is order’s Pa, 

Who holds within control the universe. 

And what within it lies, who dare rehearse? 

The feeble babe, just ushered into clay, 

Must draw its soul, for million leagues away. 
And drink from matter’s essence, in the fire 
That mounts in aftertime an angel higher, 

And as a cherubim doth join the hosts above. 
To speak with joy the praises of a God of love. 


Praises to God 

Praise God forever more. 

Him whom all men adore. 

In sleep, in waking hours. 

In light or shady bowers. 

Give our best thoughts to Him. 

In business mart of men, 

Amid the wildest glen 
Where Nature speaks alone, 
Although in undertone, 

Give praise, all praise to Him. 

On ocean’s wildest waves, 

In mountain’s deepest caves. 
Where monsters glide around. 
And serpents gross are found, 
He’s there,—give praise to Him. 




178 


Gems of Thought 


On desert’s sandy plain. 

Where ne’er comes gentle rain, 
Nor dew nor mist is seen. 

The rays of sun to screen,— 
There too, give thanks to Him. 

At Death’s dark door of woe, 
Where last is met the foe 
That spills the oil of life. 

That lights this way of strife, 
Be prayerful still to Him. 

When other life we’ve found, 

Our body ’neath the ground, 

And spirit friends around 
To welcome o’er the sound. 
There’ll still be praise for Him. 




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Merry Heart 

A merry heart, God sends, my friend, 

A blessing given for choicest end, 

The waves of life within it beat, 

Their merry play, a nice retreat. 

And in that home they ceaseless roam. 
Until with age they crest with foam 
The heads of us who journey on 
To higher realms ne’er gazed upon. 

A merry life’s a joyous tree, 

That bears its fruit eternally, 

And covers with its genial shade 

Dark spots on earth. Why were they made? 

A hopeful heart will bloom afresh, 

While others sink below, oppressed, 

And cast its fragrance round each spot, 

And makes those gay that once were not. 

Your joyful lines they came to hand. 

And cast a gleam, can’t understand. 

My way that day was thick with clouds; 
Your letter drove away the dismal shrouds, 
And left gleam upon life’s stream, 

That may not pale, as time may intervene. 




180 


Gems of Thought 


Charity 

Through charity is felt a secret glow, 

That builds man up from hidden woe; 

It paints upon his face a beam. 

That glistens from love’s gentle stream. 

At dawn of day doth darkness rise, 

Borne on light’s wings to higher skies,— 

So charity doth brush away 

The darkest clouds for new-born day. 

She shines on man in secret need, 

And brings him aid, whereon to feed,— 

The hungry form ensphered in clay. 

Whose anguish waits a better day. 

She brightens up the pale, dim eyes, 
Where sorest want they realize, 

And flashes from her crowned head 
Bright jewels on the lowly bed. 

When sorrow, sickness, and death’s pain 
Await thy coming, she’s there again, 

With gentle touch to moist the lip 
That awaits new joys beyond to sip. 

Around her head doth incense rise, 

That sweetens up the poor man’s skies, 
And bears away from him the pain, 

That else might overturn the brain. 




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The sorrows of the wife and care, 

Are soothed by her; she sends her prayer 
To Him that reigns above the sky, 

For God’s grand work is charity, 

That takes the humble child bereft, 

Its parent gone, no friend is left; 

She gathers such beneath her wing, 
Her work, it is a blessed thing. 


To a Worthy Mule 

A noble worker, gone to rest, 

“To rise, or lie, as Heaven thinks best.” 

Its life work done, through many years 
It bore the sick, their aid, mid cares. 

O’er prairie’s mead—Dame Nature’s steed, 
With tireless step—her way did lead, 

Till doctor bore to cottage door 
Whose sickness’ clouds, cast shadows o’er. 

Her owner brought, their ills to heal. 

They blessed him well; his mule we feel 
They owe a debt, in time not paid, 

But treasures up on high are laid, 

Where faithful work, though done by beast. 
Will have a credit there at least, 

For wisdom rules, in realms on high, 

And made the mule, as well as you and I. 





182 


Gems of Thought 


A tear will fall, when memories rise 
Of her who merits Paradise; 

To dust her form it soon will fall. 

Her life, whence fled? thus asketh all, 

He made the mule, who sees the sparrow fall. 

Good works must live, though done by beast,— 
Thus reason speaks, to say the least,— 

And bear their fruits beyond the skies, 

Where spirit mules anew may rise. 

A life of toil, though made by beast, 

Is worth good thoughts from us, at least. 

And though no gilded tomb we raise, 

This honest worker we do praise, 

Whose like we ne’er may see again, 

To bear us to our friends in pain. 

We’ll drop for her a tear. 

Her form hath passed; her life is near, 

That bore such precious seed on earth. 

We feel her need of second birth. 




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Sympathy 

O sympathy, transplanted from the skies, 

Flower from celestial hills of Paradise, 

To clear the tears from off the face that ran, 
Caused by man’s inhumanity to man. 

It blooms afresh on earthen banks awhile, 

And names, as love, its first-born child; 

It rises soon on wings terrestial, 

And bears its fruit to climes celestial. 

Its fragrant perfumes float upon the air. 

To soothe from solitude and care; 

It aids the lone widow in evening prayer, 

And beckons her to yonder land more fair. 

It cheers the wife upon the weary way, 

When hope is faint, but faith as clear as day, 
That she will sometime wear the crown above 
That she hath woven here by works of love. 

She sees beyond the pearls that deck with beauty 
The saddened brows of those who do their duty; 
She strangely lives two lives, in one below, 
Upheld and cheered by sympathy’s kind flow. 




184 


Gems of Thought 


W. J. Bryan 

March on, march on, each high-born soul. 
Place high above the immortal scroll, 

And rear to worth at every poll 
The record high for 
Noble Bryan. 

A native of a neighboring state, 

But later on our own by Fate 
That urged him on towards Glory’s gate, 
We’ll welcome thee, our own 
Dear Bryan. 

He comes not with a gilded crown, 

He comes not with a high renown. 

He comes not with a tyranny’s frown, 

Our chosen one, our plain 
Man Bryan. 

In silvered words of jeweled worth, 

Not claiming aught but private birth, 
And free as air, around the earth, 

He moves upon the host. 

Our Bryan. 

As Silver’s friend, he stands serene 
And welcomes it, for Gold, its Queen, 
Nor quails at sight of England’s mien. 
This Western man, we call 
Him Bryan. 




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The laboring men, God bless them all. 

When they are lost, how great the fall! 

And darkness great will each appall; 

His friend we see in 
Worthy Bryan. 

No crowned head of Europe’s land. 

No Rothschild great, with golden band. 

No English rule on Western strand. 

For this our own, our 
Welcome Bryan. 

Rouse up, ye friends of Freedom’s cause! 

Our flag, it floats o’er ill-starred laws. 

May we redeem from slavery’s jaws 
Our leader now, the 

Valiant Bryan. 

Our prairie state of richest soil. 

Where grows the grandest crops, with toil, 

And swells each breast with thoughts so royal, 
’T is there we’ll raise our voice 
For Bryan. 

Upon November’s ides we feel 
We’ll raise our shouts in merry peal 
For one we know will never kneel 
To Lombard Street: this one 
Is Bryan. 




186 


Gems of Thought 


He’s silver’s friend, the poor man’s money; 
The rich and great have gold,—it’s tony; 
But tramps will haste from ways so stony 
If victory rests upon 
Our Bryan. 

On banners wide this truth unfold, 

That love for man more power may hold 
That all that’s bought and sold with gold— 
This country’s flag unsullied floats 
With Bryan. 


Hope 

The glimmer of hope is a star on our way; 

A beacon of light, it points to the day 

Whose curtains ne’er fall, in the gloom of the night, 

Whose sun never sinks in the west out of sight. 

A gem of great splendor and brilliancy she, 

That glistens upon us with pleasure and glee; 
She flashes away from our life all of sorrow; 

She clears from the face the gloom of the morrow. 

She softens the angels that touch on our way; 

She blesses the journey with pleasure each day, 
And gathers the flowers, from wayside and bowers, 
That hang in rare clusters to ’richen the hours. 




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She is jolly with mirth from the day of our birth, 
And heralds each joy a rare tribute of worth; 

The worries of life she can battle away. 

And gather bright sheaves from the cold winter day. 

In darkness of night she glides on her wings, 

And speaks of the dawn in the hope that she brings; 
On the billowy sea, all afire with despair. 

Her track may be seen in the glow of the air. 

In the soul of the sinner, where love was ne’er born, 
She burns a dim light, from the evening till morn; 
She has for her source the light of the soul, 

The offspring of God, for love’s tribute her toll. 

Away on the track of the desert she speeds, 

And gathers up joy, for the dark Arab’s needs, 

An oasis of beauty she’s set in each soul. 

That gleams as an island with verdure untold. 

In our sail on the billows of life, she is head; 

She is last to desert us ere life it has fled; 

She is first to descry the bright portals that gleam, 
From the gates of the towers, at the foot of Death’s 
stream. 

In her fullness of joy she reaches above, 

And gathers her fruitage, the works of her love,— 
The dark spots in our life she brushes away 
With her besom of light, that heralds the day. 




188 


Gems of Thought 


Her raiment’s so light, it gleams from afar, 

And shines on our pathway as radiant star, 

While flashing still brightly in night of our gloom, 

It pierces the clouds that may cover the tomb. 

And beckons us on to the shores of that land 
Where our loved ones in glee may wave out the hand 
To draw us up higher, to be free from the dross. 
That flows in a stream at the foot of the cross. 


Intemperance 

Intemperance, we charge you now 
With legion woes, that rise below. 

To quench the lordly soul of life. 

Ere it hath passed this scene of strife. 

Your blackened train we see afar, 
Approaching with dire speed to mar 
Man’s joy, his peace, his purity, 

Both here and in eternity. 

You need no headlight on your trains, 

To show your many guilty strains; 

You are chief of all man’s many woes, 
That’s by your lurid light disclosed. 

Man’s heart you rob of sympathy, 

Which is a beastly robbery; 

Man’s soul you stain, and though from God, 
You’ll sink it low beneath the sod. 




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You pile us around with gloom and sorrow 
So dense and dark that of the morrow 
No heed we take, but drop to rest, 

To rise or lie as Heaven thinks best. 

Your victims reach that goal, the grave, 

Deprived of all that man should save 
And find perchance, if not too late, 

They must retrace life’s whole estate. 

And gather near and far, at will. 

The fragments of a life spent ill. 

Intemperance! how must thy wave 
Roll on, and on, beyond the grave! 

’T is not for me to say your darksome road 
Leads quite beyond the goodness of a God, 

How strange, that we should spend in dissipation 
That gift which stands the chief of all creation. 

The joyful blood that circles through our veins 
Needs not the wine cup’s spur, but rather reins 
To hold it calm and cool along its way— 

A devious one prepared by Deity. 

In man alone—proud man encircled high— 

Is reason’s throne, we most defy— 

To guard the way of life on every side 
From hidden foes, that up and downward glide. 





190 


Gems of Thought 


How well and true its duty has been done, 

Ask of the lone widow—whose only son 
Has ruined been, by that accursed rum— 

If she would palliate its aim and give 
It license still, to grow and feast and live; 

If she could tolerate this sin below— 

Foul curse, to strike her, weak, so hard a blow 
And send her, lonely, on her silent way, 

To meet her wayward son across the bay. 

Ask her if she would grant, for money paid, 
Liquor license, in any mart of trade; 

Ask her if filthy dross atones to her 
For loss of darling son she did revere. 

Ask her if license poured within her home 
The wealth of Croesus. Does it fill the room 
Death vacant made—that came to rob her boy. 

In youthful prime, of all that gave a mother joy? 

If danger chased the forms of those we love, 
How swift do we unto their rescue move, 

If the invader’s fleet played ’round our shore, 
And threatened us with dire destruction o’er, 

Or if the foeman’s steel shone o’er our field— 
Presaging wrath to each and every weal— 

How soon the clarion blast of Liberty 
Would rouse each soul, with martial melody. 





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The hasting peasant quick would leave unturned 
The furrow in the field; the light unburned 
Within the student’s room would flicker lone, 
And tell the story whence the son had gone. 

All strong of heart would rally ’round again 
The flag, that grandly floats from main to main, 
Nor would they think the sacrifice as great 
If made to save the freedom of a state. 

This hidden demon, though, may strike at will 
The weak or strong on every dale or hill— 
Supine we stand, and gaze upon its form, 

Allured by siren’s voice or serpent’s charm. 

This bondage still we feel of rum and gin, 

Nor hasten yet to wash us of this sin, 

That rises in voices deep all o’er the land— 
“Help us! Help us! or we are damned.” 

My friends, break through the moral prison bar! 
Behold, new light streams through a door ajar! 
It’s borne upon the pinions of a dove, 

And gently floats within the temperance move. 

Haste, drunkard, then to cast away the bowl! 
Arise, and garnish up the buried soul! 

If Heaven hath given you wings to soar, then why 
Crawl on like base, ignoble worms and die? 
Throw maddening drinks aside, and water try— 
Fluid first-born, and coming from on high. 




192 


Gems of Thought 


Then bondsman, rise, lift up your drooping eyes, 
Seize on the happy moment, as it flies; 

Make haste to write a record that will blaze 
Along life’s pathway, through all future days. 

Be men again, your noble birthright claim, 

And quickly prove that you are worthy of the same. 
Lift high your manly charter to the skies, 

Nor fear the scan of men’s nor angels’ eyes. 

Arise in freedom’s might, and smite the chain 
That rivets you to poverty and pain; 

Throw off the tattered rags that come from gin. 

And haste anew life’s journey to begin. 

By faith and works, we see the shades of night 
Disperse, and in their wake the morning light 
Come flowing in, from heavenly orb above, 

To cheer again with joy each new resolve. 

’Tis resolution wins the race in life, 

And holds in each contested field of strife 

The golden crowns, that grace the victor’s brow— 

A high-born truth, like this, we all shall know. 

Call on your God! No evil may betide 
To dash intemperance’s chains aside; 

Be free, be free from all that binds the soul 
With demon’s charm unto the maddening bowl. 




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193 


Return to simple food; for drink, take water; 

A fairy bride, the rainbow, is thy daughter; 

A hope she clasps thee, in her radiant arms, 

E’en in the muttering hours of lurid storms. 

Then when oppressed by summer’s heat we hie to 
shade. 

What gives more joy than this, which God has made, 
The water, pattering down the mossy well. 

The home in which the cold frog loves to dwell? 

Or, bubbling up, it sparkles from the urn 
Inclosed with rock, where day-beams never burn,— 
A thing of life, it gaily runs along 
And sings continually a pleasant song. 

It decks the grass, beneath the morning sun 
With pearls more bright than royalty can own, 
And feeds the gentle flower with dew from Heaven, 

A nectar clear, as e’er from God is given. 

Its silvered, ribboned bands across the land, 

It winds and flits and plays on every hand; 

Each old and gnarled tree it clothes in green. 
Beneath whose roots is drunk its hidden stream. 

From pole to pole o’er earth, its sway it holds, 
Whether ’mid torrid heats or colds, 

It is a thing of beauty, rare and grand, 

Securing joy for fish and beast and man. 




194 


Gems of Thought 


In grand old ocean, too, it is sublime, 

Here Nature speaks her story o’er of time. 

And carries back the thoughts to other days, 

When Noah built his boat. Whom shall we praise? 

See the million-orbed dews, upon the grass! 

How like the pearls they seem to shine as glass, 
Transferring Nature’s green to dazzling white, 

And laughing as they dance amid the light. 

Thy coming down in rain from Heaven, how grand, 
When parched with summer’s heat on every hand 
We see the earth all cracked and dry around. 

And every herb and flower with heat bowed down. 

Behold, each thirsting plant holds up In prayer 
Its little cup to gather from the moistened air 
That which its nature tells the want and need. 
Although it never yet hath learned to read. 

Let all in haste quick learn the power of water, 

To cleanse and purify both son and daughter; 

It flows continual, from living fountains, 

And permeates the valleys and the mountains. 

It had a place long years ago on earth, 

And has flowed on, it seems, from Nature’s birth; 
Ebbing and flowing, infinite and free, 

Its throbs beat through a long eternity. 




Along Life's Pathway 


195 


Glorious thou, in all thy forms, appear, 
Whether on moon-lit lake or ocean drear, 

Or gentle river gliding through the land. 

The source of joy and use, on every hand. 

The mist that hangs its pearly curtain round 
The lake and forest, bay and sound, 

How gently doth it wave—the breath of water— 
Bridal veil of Nature, wooing son and daughter. 

Behold the desert, with its seas of sand, 

Where fly the parching winds on every hand, 
What can transfer this waste to use of man? 
Water, charming water answers, “I can.” 

The burden bearer of the sandy waste. 

With swinging step goes swiftly by, in haste 
To reach the oasis and tree-girt wells, 

Where Nature’s instinct tells that water dwells. 

The Arab passeth. Hath he desire to sip 
The purple juice of grape within his parched lip? 
No; to the flowing well in haste he flies; 

This jewel decks Mohammed’s paradise. 

You tiny drops diffused in steam, in space, 

They have a power to rend upon its base 
The mountain grand, that towers upon the land, 
And shake it as if demon had in hand. 





196 


Gems of Thought 


Confined in iron, girt about with steel, 

It drives the locomotive wheel. 

Or cleaves the sea in ship, with mighty speed, 

With engines in its hold, its power to lead. 

It trips the forge and gaily turns the mill, 

That grinds with human skill upon the hill 
The golden grains on which we thrive and grow, 
While we are clothed in mortal flesh below. 

Nor would we in silence pass the boiling pot 
That makes at early hours the coffee hot, 

Or draws with gentle power the steaming tea— 
Alike for peasant and prince a luxury. 

Where’er life’s busy hum, ’mid son and daughter, 
Thou art its gentle hand-maid, glorious water, 
Diffusing in thy gift to man a joy 
Heavenly born, and peace without alloy. 

Thou art free as freedom’s breath to climb the hill— 
Borne on the wings of storm you float at will— 

And grandly carry in your darkened train 
The power of tempest or the copious rain. 

Thy grateful gifts allure on every side 
Man to thy use, the rich and poor alike, 

And count thy blessing, as it runs, from Heaven— 
The grandest, purest, prettiest, God hath given. 




Along Life's Pathway 


197 


The Clock of Eternity 

f 

Far back in eternity’s womb I lay, 

Awaiting day’s dawn from primordial night. 

The specter of world-building moved on my soul. 

And the strokes from my gaunt form 
Rang out grand notes from pole unto pole. 

My form was quite hidden from view, 

And as some vast specter, in distance I grew; 

I tolled out the years, as the centuries rolled on. 

I, the clock of the ages, hung silent in space. 

My dial half hidden in mystery’s place. 

My hands, as they silently moved on their way, 
Marked out the ages, now past and mouldering away. 

My mechanism grand, and dial complete, 

It marked off the ages, as transient they fleet; 

The rise of a planet from fire mist, along 
The vast ages, is marked by my span 

With all of her changes, down to primitive man. 

My strokes may reach all time; 

To measure eternity is mine, 

An unfathomable line 

Reaching from the crests 
Of ancient chaos, whose behests 
I sound adown time’s rugged steeps, 

From eternity’s mysterious deeps. 




198 


Gems of Thought 


My dial plate, so wondrous to relate. 

It points to birth of stars that date 
Ere gaseous matter, molded into form, 

Assumed its shape,—as suns to warm, 

And gravitated to its goal 

To play a part in planetary control. 

The universal state of matter was marked by you; 
Its ethereal vibrations, yourself did view; 

A master hand of yours assumed control, 

And cunning made you with a soul. 

Of time to tell a story—so long, so vast 
No date can reach—we stand aghast 
And wonder at thy age so hoary; 

No figures can relate its story. 

Your strokes resound through corridors of time. 
And mark the fall and rise sublime 
Of systems, that may antedate our sun 
Quintillion centuries e’er it begun 
Its race and fiery path in Heaven’s sky— 

Ere souls were born with human destiny. 




Along Life's Pathway 


199 


Space and Time 

Space itself is a wonderful thought, because its 
nature, in its entirety, is unthinkable; no human mind 
can comprehend it; no thought can equal it; it can 
only be measured by infinity or God; it can have no 
border or boundary, for boundary would occupy it; 
hence it is proved boundless. Sides, bottom and top, 
it has none. 

It is compassed only by God; is unfathomable as 
God himself; it could not but have existed from the 
beginning, that is eternally. 

It could not have been hewed out originally, for 
the Maker would have been compelled to have work¬ 
ing room, and space would have furnished this, hence 
it was before the Maker. 

In its entirety how strange the thought! The 
orbit of Arcturus is only a point in its immensity. 

Distance measured by quintillions of miles is in¬ 
significant. Space is as unfathomable as Deity him¬ 
self. 

Boundless, grand and unapproachable when we 
come to scan or measure it. 

Wrapped in its own immensity, only a God can 
approach its fathomless dimensions. 

Space has one worthy hand-maiden and this is 
time; its equal in the infinity of its measurement; its 
nearest of kin; the two equally related to God, 
another name for Infinity, the contemplation of it. 




200 


Gems of Thought 


is most wonderful which nothing can equal but the 
universe that floats on its bosom, as floats the ship 
upon the ocean’s waters. 

What strange beings we are, moving in this vast 
field of space, amid the ocean of time. 

We ponder on thy grandeur, O God, when we 
think of these thy co-assistants, Space and Time, 
which thy infinity alone can comprehend, can fathom. 

Space is empty void, enclosing within itself the 
sum total of things. 

Within this move World’s, Systems, and Univer¬ 
ses, and yet a void in which all things exist and 
are in rapid motion. 

Space needed no creation, has no destiny, is ever 
without function but furnishes scope for infinite 
functions. 

Time, her co-eternal, needed no creation, as void 
and empty in its nature as space, and yet as impor¬ 
tant universal factor as its great hand-maid and co¬ 
assistant Space,—no creation, no commencement, 
end. 

Both time and space are emblems of infinity, both 
as full of mystery, as even God himself. 

They appear akin to the higher principles, which 
rule the worlds and systems of worlds. 

They stand forth as the great thoughts of the 
Almighty, that have ever existed; they needed no 
creation, and have no destiny, but are simple elemen¬ 
tary truths, existences. 




Along Life's Pathway 


201 


They are infinite in their nature and unchange¬ 
able, without variableness. They existed as principles 
or entities before the universe took form, or man 
was ushered into clay tenement. 

Given Space and Time, Matter (ether), and Spirit, 
we have all we need for study, advancement, pro¬ 
gression, unfoldment. 

Deity or deific power in all things, building 
worlds upon worlds for the habitation of man. 

Does he cease at the material? And does the 
power that moves an entire universe in order and 
precision, desert a life-soul when death’s dark cur¬ 
tain intervenes and clouds the mortal eye, or does it 
open up, upon more resplendent skies, whence the 
home of the soul, we more truly realize? In thy 
womb, O Space, may well be contained all that is 
or ever may be. 

From thy cunning and power, “Grand Master” of 
all the universes, nothing may be hidden and nothing 
lost. 

Space is thy field and its treasures are thine for¬ 
evermore. As limitless as nature’s God, whom it con¬ 
ceals and enshrouds. 




* 


PRINTED BY R. R. DONNELLEY & 
SONS COMPANY, AT THE LAKESIDE 
PRESS, CHICAGO, IN THE YEAR 
NINETEEN HUNDRED AND TEN 
















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